Êtes-vous une bête ou un ange?
by lady.eliot
Summary: Castiel is banished to Earth, as punishment for not loving humans enough, where he will remain until he can learn to love and be loved in return. He has all but given up hope until he meets Dean, a man with a beautiful soul. But will Dean be able to see past his crippling self doubt and Castiel's appearance? Inspired by Beauty & The Beast (NOT a direct re-creation)
1. Prologue

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of heaven, a young angel lived amongst his brothers and sisters in a shining castle.

Although he had everything his heart desired, the angel was spoiled, selfish, and unkind.

The angel could not love humanity like his brethren. He found them vile, hideous and repulsive and ridiculed his brothers for their love.

But then, one night, his father returned home to the castle, and offered him a chance to change his hateful ways. Repulsed by his father's proposal. The angel sneered and turned his father away.

But God warned him not to be deceived by the appearances of the humans, for their true beauty is found within. When the angel dismissed his father again, God sighed and turned away, his heart heavy with the knowledge that another one of his sons was becoming a hateful monster. The angel tried to apologize, but it was too late, for God had seen that there was no love in his heart.

As punishment, he banished the Angel in his true form to the realm of humans. Without a vessel, the angel would appear as a terrifying beast to the humans he would meet. There the angel was cursed to stay for eternity or until he could love and be loved in return.  
As the years passed, the angel fell into despair, and lost all hope.  
For who could ever learn to love a Beast?


	2. A Trip To The Market

Sam Winchester wasn't like the rest of the boys in the village, and he knew it. He didn't really care much that the other boys thought he was weird, preferring being buried in his books to the boring, whining, drivel that his classmates spouted. He was an unusually pretty boy of seventeen, his hair a few shades too long and his face just this side of feminine. He was tall and willowy, not much for fighting or sports like the others. Quiet and kind, Sam saw the good in everyone he met, offering a shy smile and a quiet hello to the people he passed on the way to the market.

The market was bustling , which was unusual this early in the morning but it was harvest time and unseasonably warm so the villagers were all out trading their wares to prepare for what was promising to be a long, hard winter. Sam shifted his heavy backpack on his shoulders, glancing up from his book briefly to respond to the group of villagers he passed. Once his social obligations were filled he returned his attention back to his book, winding his free hand into the long hair of his dog Charger. Charger was a big black dog with sleek fur and a sweet disposition. He was originally bred to be a hunting dog but it rapidly became clear that he wasn't going to be much use in the woods. Sam begged and begged to keep him and finally Dean relented, never one to be able to deny the boy anything. They had to find another dog for the hunt. The other dog's name was Impala, and she didn't like traipsing about in the village with Sam, preferring to be glued to Dean's side at all times. Sam didn't mind though. He thought that Impala was a bit too serious as far as dog go, he much preferred the goofy Charger, who never quite grew into his paws.

Suddenly Charger stopped, barking once to startle Sam out of his own little world. Looking up, he realized that he was at his destination. He patted Charger on the head and commanded him to stay as he entered the butchers shop. The bell over the door tinkled a greeting, causing a large, bearded, balding man to come out from the back of the shop. A warm smile filled the man's face.

"Sammy Winchester, what do you have for me today boy?"

Sam smiled shyly, approaching the counter with his heavy backpack. He hauled it onto the counter, where the butcher immediately started rifling through it. The butcher pulled out and examined the three medium sized rabbits, some squirrels and a large quail. Sam stood fidgeting before the counter.

"How's your idjit big brother? Still chasing that buck through the back woods?"

Sam smiled fondly and shook his head.

"Nah Bobby, he got back last night, apparently some wolves got to it before could. He's dead tired though. Haven't seen him in weeks and now that he's back I probably he won't see him for another while he recovers."

Bobby laughed, pulling out a big leather book and scribbling details on the transaction.

"That's Dean alright. Alright well, here's what I owe you for these guys and if you wait a few minutes I might have a nice bone or two for those damn dogs of yours."

Bobby disappeared into the back of the shop and came out a moment later with a small armful of animal bones which he placed in the backpack Sam was carrying, along with the money he had given Sam for the animals. Sam smiled brightly, hauling the bag back over his shoulders.

"Thanks Bobby! I'll see you in a few days!"

"Alright Sam, you be careful. I think a storm's brewin."

Sam mumbled a reply, already buried in his book. Bobby smiled at him fondly, watching him walk out of the shop. When Sam was outside, Charger nudged his hand and licked him affectionately.

"Good boy. Only one more stop I promise."

The dog looked up at him, wagging his tail and panting. Sam and Charger took off the street in the direction of the bookstore.


	3. Sam & Dean

Sam bounded through the front door of his house, Charger hot on his tail. He tossed his backpack on the floor by the door and threw himself down onto the pile of furs in front of the hearth. Charger nosed at the bag by the door until it opened, grabbing himself a bone and flopping down half on top of Sam. Sam grunted at the weight of his dog.

"Oof when did you get so big?"

Sam heard a rough laugh from the bedroom area of the cabin. The rustle of blankets could be heard clearly in the quiet cabin and then the soft pad of feet on a wood floor approached the main living area.

"I keep asking myself the same thing about you Sammy. Every time I come home from a hunt I swear you're even taller than you were when I left. When you gonna stop growing Sasquatch?"

Sam beamed at his big brother from his sprawled position by the hearth.

"Well evidently not when I outgrow you, little man."

Dean growled softly before throwing himself into the pile of furs and wrestling his little brother into a headlock. Charger barked excitedly, tail wagging madly back and forth as Impala opened one eye and looked on from under the kitchen table. Sam frowned and protested when Dean rubbed his knuckles against Sam's skull, ruffling his long hair.

"Deeeeeeaan"

Sam whined, pouting and Dean smirked his triumph.

"Who's the little man now Sammy?"

Dean laughed and pushed away from his brother, walking towards the wood stove where oatmeal was keeping warm.

"So what are your plans for today? And don't tell me you're planning on staying in to read because you're not."

Sam groaned and turned over, face down in the fur. Charger promptly started nosing in his hair, causing Sam to swat wildly behind him at the dog. Charger huffed and sprawled out on top of him, annoyed. Dean moved to the stove, spooning a generous amount of the oats into his bowl. Scowling, he moved to the tabled to eat. Impala shuffled over to place her head on his feet.

"Sam just go out and explore for a few hours, please. Just pretend to be normal for one afternoon."

Sam lifted his head to glare at his brother, resting on his elbows.

"Not you too! All I ever hear in the village is 'Oh Sam, why aren't you playing with the other boys?' or 'Oh Sam, why aren't you going hunting with your brother? Where is he anyways?' or 'Oh Sam, that girl Sarah is quite pretty don't you think?'"

Sam takes a deep breath, settling the waver in his voice.

"and you know what? I'm sick of it! and now I come home from selling part of _your_ kill for you and you have nothing to say to me other than 'Can't you pretend to be normal?' God damn it Dean maybe I don't want to be normal! Maybe I'm happy with my books and my dog."

Dean swallows the large mouthful of oatmeal and sighs.

"Yeah Sammy I know. I just worry about you is all. You're seventeen now, you're going to have to marry soon and move into the village and neither of those things will be easy if they don't trust you."

Sam narrowed his eyes accusingly at his brother.

"You're not married, and you're older than me. _And _you don't live in the village either!"

Dean smiled sadly, refusing to meet Sam's eye.

"That's different."

Sam scrambled to sit up, gathering his long limbs beneath him. He crossed his arms across his chest, glaring challengingly at Dean.

"How is it different?"

Dean huffed and looked out the window, dropping his spoon loudly into his bowl.

"Because it is Sammy ok?"

Sam got to his feet, pushing Charger away and pulling himself up to his full height.

"That's not a real answer Dean."

Dean stood up, pushing his chair away from the table. He braced himself against the table with both hands, his face thunderous. Impala stood stoically beside him. Sam flinched back a bit, and put a comforting hand in Charger's scruff.

"Because they don't trust me and I'm damn well doing everything I can to stop the same thing from happening to you, alright?"

Dean stepped away from the table, running his hands across his face and through his short hair.

"It's too late for me, but I'm trying to just let you have a damn normal life Sam."

Sam steeled himself, fingers tightening in Chargers fur.

"What if I just want to stay with you? What then?"

Dean turned his back to Sam, moving to wash his dish in the bucket by the window.

"Don't even say that Sammy. You don't know what you're talking about."

Dean's voice was soft and sad as he looked out into the forest. A long way in the distance, smoke could be seen rising from the picturesque little town. Dean's shoulders were a hard line, and Sam couldn't even bring himself to look at his brother, feeling sadness curl in his chest.

"Don't make me ask you again. Just go outside for a while. Please."

His voice broke on the last word and Sam felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He hadn't meant to make his brother so upset. He turned and walked out the door of the cabin and into the woods, Charger on his heels.


	4. Forest Fire

Sam walked for what felt like hours. At one point he had picked up a stick and was using it to hit angrily at the underbrush as he walked. Charger bounded through the woods ahead of Sam, barking happily. Sam sulked, deep in thought.

He eventually came to a clearing, where he sat down with an angry huff. He looked up at the sky and noticed with a start how dark and turbulent the sky had gotten since he left the house. While he was looking at the sky Charger came circling back, looking for his master. He saw Sam sitting in the grass and happily laid down beside him, head in Sam's lap. Sam sighed loudly.

"I hate that he thinks he can tell me what to do."

Charger looked up at Sam from his place in Sam's lap. Sam rolled his eyes.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about."

Charger lifted his head and gave Sam a doggy smile. Sam frowned contemplatively.

"It's just, he thinks that everything is his responsibility and it's not."

Sam restlessly picked handfuls of grass from the ground around him, letting the wind carry the grass off.

"Ever since Dad died he thinks he can boss me around and that it's up to him to make sure that everything in my life is ok. He's always meddling but then he tries to make it seem like he's letting me make my own decisions. He drives me crazy Charge."

Chargers ears perked up at the sound of his name and his tail started wildly flailing. Sam laughed halfheartedly, a sad look on his face.

"And now he's probably sitting in the kitchen tearing his hair out and wringing his hands because he thinks he's hurt my feelings. He drives me so crazy!"

Charger nudged his head under Sam's arm, nuzzling closer.

"I miss them. All the time. And I wish Dean didn't try so hard to be them. I wish he would let me help."

Charger whined at the sadness in Sam's voice. Sam laughed hollowly.

"He's crazy if he thinks I'm going to leave him alone in that stupid cabin just so I can go marry some mundane girl and have annoyingly average children."

Charger barked once. Sam seemed to take it as agreement, patting the dog between his floppy ears.

"What's it going to take to get it though that thick skull of hi-"

Sam stopped midsentence when Charger barked again. Then he heard it, the crackling sound of a large animal moving through the underbrush. Sam froze where he sat, fingers tightening into Charger's scruff so hard that he whined. Sam quickly released his fingers, smoothing them over the back of the dog's neck. A moment later a large deer burst out of the forest, startling Sam and causing the dog to bark loudly. Sam breathed a sigh of relief, now painfully aware that he had left all the hunting weapons at home in his haste to leave.

It was then that the rain started to fall.

The rain came down in great torrents, heavy, fat raindrops falling rapidly in the clearing. Light split the sky, causing Sam to jump. It was very unusual for a storm to crop up this suddenly, especially at this time of year. Thunder rolled in to follow the lightning and Sam was startled into action.

Sam and Charger went darting for the trees, seeking somewhere safe to weather the storm. In the woods the rain was much lighter, blocked by the thick foliage. Sam heard a deafening crack and turned to look at the clearing in horror. Lightning had struck just feet away from where Sam and Charger had been sitting. Charger, sensing the danger, grabbed Sam's pants in his jaws and started to tug him away from the storm.

As they moved through the woods the lightning seemed to follow them, striking three trees within a ten foot radius. The forest floor started to smolder where it was still relatively dry. When lightning struck again the forest was suddenly full of light and smoke and heat. Charger dragged Sam, stumbling, through the forest. The fire burned quicker than they could run and they were soon surrounded by a thick, choking cloud of smoke.

They ran, barely able to five feet ahead of them, dodging trees as they went. They ran until Sam's lungs burnt and then they kept running. And then all of a sudden the woods dropped off into nothing and Sam was falling. He hit the water with a splash. A few moments later he surfaced, gasping and flailing in the water. Sam and Charger barely managed to swim to shore before collapsing on the shore with strained lungs, pounding hearts and singed hair. Above, the forest fire raged on as they lay panting at the rocky mouth of a dark cave.


	5. Trapped

Sam woke on the shore of the river as night was falling heavy around him. The air still smelled faintly of smoke but the blazing light of the forest fire was gone. The rain was coming down in great sheets, plastering Sam's clothes and hair to his body. As he came into consciousness he became aware of the shivers coursing through his body. Charger was pressed tightly up against his right side, whining softly. Sam struggled to sit up, feeling a burning in his chest from the smoke he inhaled. Charger surged up and started madly licking Sam's face. Sam weakly pushed him off and struggled to stand on the rocky shore.

When Sam struggled to his feet, he found himself at the gaping mouth of a large cavern. Charger nosed at his hand, looking up at him. Sam shuddered violently in the rain, debating how wise it was to weather the storm in the cave. The cave mouth was wide and tall but it quickly narrowed to a smaller space. The darkness in the cave was complete and inky black and it made Sam nervous. There was no way of telling from the outside how deep the opening went or what else might be using it for shelter against the storm.

When the sky outside was almost as black as the cave, and Sam could no longer clench his jaw against the chattering of his teeth, and the rain seemed not to be letting up, Sam steeled himself to enter the cave. He approached it warily, edging toward the cave. Charger whined in distress and didn't follow his master. Sam was shivering so hard that he hardly noticed.

When Sam crossed the threshold of the cave he felt a strange tingling sting through his body. Alarmed, he tried to step back out of the cave and found that he couldn't. Sam tried again. He tried to step back through the mouth of the cave. He found himself running into what felt like a solid wall. He put his hands up, resting them where he thought the wall was. He couldn't feel anything. Sam pushed. The air resisted him as if it was made of stone. He pushed a little harder but the barrier didn't give. He took a few steps backwards before running at the barrier. He hit the invisible wall with his shoulder, but the impact did little but send a shockwave through his body.

Sam looked around the cave for something that would be causing the strange phenomenon but all he could find was some strange lettering and symbols from a language he didn't recognize. They were old he realized, but carved so deep in the stone that the weathering of the cave wouldn't be enough to erase them for millions of years. He ran his fingers over the carvings, feeling the same curious tingling sting from before. He withdrew his hand from the stone. Whatever had carved these runes was not human. The amount of strength it would have taken to score the stone as deep as it was scored was immense.

Sam was suddenly filled with a chill of dread. It was then that he realized that the air in the cave was too still. The wind from outside was mysteriously absent and the cave was much warmer than it should have been. The knot of anxiety in Sam's gut tightened with a sense of _not right_.

He looked up to find that Charger stood on the other side of the threshold, whining and barking but refusing to get any closer. Sam felt a tiny spark of hope in his chest.

"Charger, hey boy, look at me"

Charger stopped barking and looked at Sam, head cocked.

"I need you to go get Dean. Get Dean Charger. Go Get Dean."

Charger hesitated, taking a step backwards, still whining. Sam sighed and sharpened his expression.

"Go Charger. Get Dean."

Charger whined one last time before turning and disappearing into the dark. Sam stepped back from the barrier, for once feeling well and truly alone.


	6. The Cave

Sam sat down near the mouth of the cave, leaning against the wall. He leaned his head back against the stone and listened to the muffled sound of the falling rain. He sat like that until his back ached and he couldn't feet his legs. The cold of the stone seeped through his wet clothes and burrowed into his bones, leeching all of his warmth. The longer Sam sat there, the more nervous he became. After a few hours, in what must have been the dead of night, Sam heard a noise.

Somewhere, deep within the cave, a low grating sound could be heard. The sound was like steel scraping across stone and it made every hair on Sam's body stand on end. He felt a heaviness that had nothing to do with fatigue settle in his stomach. Every muscle in his body clenched and Sam vibrated with nervous energy, tense and ready to spring.

Sam stood carefully, trying not to make any noise in the still darkness. He drew himself to his full height and steeled himself for a fight. His hands shook and his breath was thin and hurried. His barely contained panic was only being worsened by the knowledge that he was trapped without hope of escape. Time slid by, but Sam's pulse didn't stop pounding in his ears.

The noise stopped.

The silence was thick and pressed on Sam in all directions. He could feel his heart trying to beat out of his ribcage. The only sound in the cave was his breathing, and it screamed through the darkness. Sam waited, more tense than ever, eyes trained on the cave where it narrowed and continued into the stone.

Then as suddenly as the scraping had stopped another sound started. A low keening wail echoed through the tunnel. The sound rose and fell, ebbing and flowing endlessly as the ocean. The sound was strange and unlike anything he had ever heard. It was thin and broken but it carried in it more power than he could comprehend. The song, because he had no word that suited the sound better, was like static in the air after a storm.

Sam felt his heart clench in his chest and belatedly realized that it hadn't clenched in fear. The pressure he felt behind his eyes and in this throat, the stinging burn, were indicators of sadness, not fear. Sam felt the song in a way that he had never felt anything before. It seemed to settle deep in his very soul, the sadness resonating through his existence. Whatever it was that was making this sound was in indescribable pain. Sam didn't know if the song had words, but if it did, they weren't necessary to translate the mournful sounds that echoed off the cave. The echo lent the song a painful dissonance that made it even harder to bear.

Before he knew what was happening, Sam's feet were moving in the direction of the sound. With one hand on the cave wall, Sam crept through the cave in search of the creature making the sound. He knew whatever it was wasn't human, but other than that he had no idea what to expect.

The floor of the cave began to slant down, becoming slick with moss and water from an underground stream that periodically cropped up before disappearing back into the cave walls. Soon Sam became aware of a lightening in the cave. What used to be nearly pitch blackness was becoming increasingly easier to see in until he found himself in a portion of tunnel so well lit that he had no shadows to hide in.

He crept onwards quietly like a man possessed through the narrow tunnel. Up ahead the tunnel appeared to widen and level out, no longer moving downwards into the earth. Sam paused briefly, unsure if he should press on or turn back. The song slid into a deeper register, tinged with bitterness and regret. Sam wasn't even consciously aware that he made a decision until he reached the widening end of the tunnel.

It was darker on the other side of the threshold, but not pitch black like the mouth of the cave. The only light seemed feeble, pulsing gently in time with the song. Sam took a quiet breath and passed through over the threshold onto a ledge overlooking a gigantic cavern. The space seemed wrong somehow to Sam. Like it was too large to be contained in the rock, too vaulted and smooth to be the product of nature. To his left Sam could make out rough stairs carved into the stone wall. The walls were crisscrossed with more of the symbols from the mouth of the cave, carved so deep that time would never erase them. He followed the lines of runes upwards until he could see the sky.

The stars winked merrily overhead. Sam's head spun. It was impossible for those stars to exist. The cavern was carved into the cliff face that held up the forest. Dean spent his whole life in the forest and Sam had never heard him talk of a place where the world dropped away into an impossibly large cavern covered in strange markings.

The song was louder in here, echoing off the walls and filling the immense space. Sam finally cast his eyes downwards, examining the cavern floor. What he saw there made the presence of stars seem completely ordinary. The floor of the cave was covered in lush green grass. A stream sparkled in the corner, reflecting the stars, leading into a small waterfall and a large pond. Beside the pond, long grasses grew unchecked. In the darkness Sam could barely make out the shapes of trees that seemed to stretch on forever. Beneath the mourning song Sam could hear crickets and the rustling of trees.

Sam moved towards the stairs, wary of this place but too curious to give up the chance to explore. This was like a place straight out of his fairytales. A whole forest encased in a stone cavern. Sam climbed the stairs, downward and downward until his legs ached. Just when he thought the steps would never end, he found himself standing in the plush grass he had seen from so high above.

Turning he realized that under the stairs the grassy meadow continued. The cavern was larger even than he had seen from above. In the meadow, glinting in the starlight was a glowing pile of what looked like ice. From within the pile of translucent material a strange greenish blue light pulsed. It was barely a spark within the pile but it seemed bright in the darkness of the meadow under the fake, _wrong_, stars. Sam crept towards the pile of ice, entranced by the glowing light.

Sam reached out his hand. As his hand neared the ice he got the distinct impression of _heat _before the song ground to an abrupt halt. Sam stumbled back as the pile of ice stirred. He fell back into the grass with a start as the_ thing _rose out of the grass. When it turned to face him, Sam realized that it very clearly wasn't ice after all.

The creature stood tall, much taller than Sam. Probably twice his height he estimated. It was built like a human but with much longer limbs. The thing was translucent and appeared fragile, almost impossibly thin in some places. Its fingers were long and delicate but they Sam thought that they could probably tear him apart. From its back, large glassy wings spread out spanning close to thirty feet at Sam's best estimation. The wings seemed to be made of glass feathers that tinkled softly as they shifted against each other. Within the creatures chest a spark of light pulsed like a heartbeat. Sam let his eyes travel up. When he reached the things head he let out an involuntary cry.

The thing had 4 faces.

Sam had never seen some of the things that made up the creatures faces, making it seem even more alien. One of its faces was like a mountain lion but more refined, another like a horse but black and white, another that looked like furred caricature of human that Sam thought he might have read about, he thought it was called a "monkey". The last face was the most alarming of all, just a smooth white face, gaping mouth with no teeth and blank eyes. The cavern was filled with a rumbling growl from the mouth of the cat-face. The white mask opened its cavernous mouth and a voice like stones rubbing together floated from the strange creature. The voice was weary and defeated.

"You are a long way from home human."

Sam gulped and curled in on himself in the grass in self defense. His voice shook when he addressed the creature.

"I'm trapped. I tried to get home but I couldn't leave."

The creature turned away to look at the stars.

"Yes, you have trespassed on sacred ground. I require penance for your crime."

The voice made Sam nervous. It seemed as old as the stones that housed the cavern. He knew that the thing must have been what had made the space, hung the stars in stone and grown the ancient forests in the caves. This must be what carved the runes into the stone and trapped him here.

"If you let me go, I won't ever come back. I promise. No one ever needs to hear about this place."

The creature sighed. Its voice sounded like the wind across the ocean. Sam shivered in the dark.

"That cannot be human. You are my prisoner now."

Sam was speechless. The creature walked away with the sound of steel scraping across rock, the sound that had startled Sam earlier. Sam called after the creature but it didn't even turn to look back at him. Sam sat in the grass until the sun rose and the enchanted sky above him became light with morning.


	7. Waiting

Dean stood at the window of the cabin, anxiously watching night fall on the forest. In the distance, a storm was raging. It wouldn't be long now until it engulfed the cabin and the small village beyond it. Dean was a wreck with worry. Sam had ventured out into the woods with nothing but his dog, and he hadn't come back. If anyone knew how dangerous the woods were it was Dean. He spent most of his time living between the trees, stalking his prey and fighting to survive just to put food on the table. Everything he did was to protect Sam, but lately Dean felt that just by being away so often he was failing his baby brother.

As the night wore on, Dean became increasingly more anxious. Bad enough being in the forest in the summer but the seasons were beginning to turn, autumn slowly painting the forest with color. It was cold now at night, and Dean worried Sam might freeze in the woods if he wasn't careful. The logical part of his brain reminded him that he had trained Sam in surviving the wilderness himself and if anyone could spend the night safely out there it was Sammy. The emotional part of course supplied him with the memories of the especially vicious pack of wolves that had been stalking the same buck as Dean.

Dean felt his eyes grow heavy, spent with exhaustion after his long hunting trip. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed, warm and comfortable. He wanted to succumb to sleep and let it pull him under like the tide. But he knew that even if he laid in his bed, that sleep wouldn't come until Sam was safe and home. So instead he paced. He walked up and down in front of the fireplace, concocting plausible stories of why Sam wasn't yet home. He straightened the cabin, mentally talking himself down from his roiling panic.

Sometime during his restless waiting, the storm fell heavy on the cabin, beating down on the roof and against the sides of the building. The wind screamed in the trees and Dean's stomach clenched in fear. Sam was out there somewhere in this weather. He wrung his hands, pacing out endless circles across the hearth. Why wasn't Sam back yet?

Dean thought back to what he had said to Sam this afternoon. He felt guilt welling in his chest. Was Sam angry enough to have stayed away or was there something truly wrong here? Dean would be consumed with guilt forever if something happened to his brother. His sweet, goofy, _brilliant_ little brother who he was supposed to be looking after. His brother who was out in the woods alone, probably scared and cold and possibly injured.

Dean was a man of action. It killed him to be cooped up in the cabin, not knowing what happened to Sam. But in the weather like this it was too risky to venture out. Impala would never be able to track him down through the rain and Dean was more likely to get lost than to find Sam. Especially because he wasn't sure which direction Sam had ventured out in. He would just have to wait and hope that when the storm abated and the morning came, his brother would be home.


	8. Through The Woods

Eventually the storm calmed. The rain slowed and stopped and the sky began to lighten with the dawn. Dean's nerves were frayed and ragged by the time the sun had cleared the sky of all the clouds and Sam still wasn't home. Dean called Impala to his side and left the cabin to stand at the edge of the forest. The air was cool after the storm, strangely still after such a violent display. The sun was bright and high in the sky. A slight breeze shifted in the trees and Dean caught the scent of smoke in the air. Before he could acknowledge whether it was coming from the forest or the village, Impala was off like a shot into the trees, barking madly. When he strained his ears, Dean thought he could hear an answering bark.

Charger.

Dean ran into the woods. He followed the sound of Impala tearing through the underbrush, hunter's instincts on high alert. Charger's barking increased in urgency as they neared him. Charger came bounding at Dean, the usually floppy and goofy dog seeming strangely serious. Other people would probably think he was crazy, but Dean could sense a change in the dog and it set his teeth on edge. Dean cast his eyes around the forest looking for his gangly limbed, floppy haired brother. His heart was in his throat, realizing that Sammy was nowhere to be found.

"Sam?"

Dean's yell startled some birds out of a nearby bush, causing them to fly off.

"Sammy?"

Dean waited for an answer but one didn't come. He felt tears stinging behind his eyes. This damn dog never left Sam's side so where was he?

Charger circled behind Dean, head-butting him in the back of the leg. Charger whined and tried to push Dean in the direction that the dog had come from. Dean didn't hesitate for a second. He followed Chargers lead through the trees, ducking and weaving through familiar spaces. They were on the trail to the clearing where Sam sometimes went to read or think. Sam knew this part of the woods like the back of his hand. Dean took a shaky breath. As long as Sam was around here he was probably safe. So why was his dumbass dog here instead of with him?

As they got deeper into the forest and farther from the village, Dean realized that the smell of smoke wasn't going away. If anything the smell of smoke was getting thicker, more choking. Dean and the two dogs passed into the sodden clearing. The grass was soaked and soggy. The clearing itself looked normal but for one patch of scorched ground, but the forest that stretched out beyond it was charred in some places and completely decimated in others. The forest air was warmer than it should be, and pungent with smoke. The air stung in his throat. Dean carefully picked his way through the clearing, avoiding the large puddles. Focusing so hard on avoiding soaking his feet he nearly missed it. Sam's favorite book was laying face-down in the grass. Dean picked it up. It was heavy with water and all the ink had bled from the pages, leaving the book looking bleached and strangely bloated. Sam would never have left his book behind.

Charger barked to get Dean's attention and trotted onwards through the forest. Dean took that as a hopeful sign. Charger was leading him to Sam. This portion of woods left Dean with a strange feeling. His body hummed with nervous energy, amplified by his sense of something off about this place. Dean had the sinking feeling that the fire hadn't been entirely natural. That maybe something had intervened.

Charger walked on and on through the trees, occasionally glancing back to check that Dean and Impala were still behind him. Even Dean rarely came this far into the forest. This pa rt of the forest had always been a place of legend and mystery. It had always been a few degrees too cold and had a sense of foreboding lingering in the air. It made even the steel nerved Impala nervous. The little company trod on, dodging burnt stumps of trees and puddles of the water that had eventually put out the fire. If Sam had made it this far through the woods, chased by fire and came out unscathed, it would be a miracle.

Finally, Charger led them to a cliff face where the forest seemed to immediately drop into nothing. Below, the waters churned, but the forest that extended below was relatively untouched. Dean allowed himself a bit of hope. If Sam had made it to the other side of this cliff he might still be alright.

They picked their way down the rocks, careful of the moss. They moved downward for what seemed like miles, until they reached the rocky shore of the river. Dean peered into the river. It was deep and clear and if Sam had jumped he could still be ok. They walked along the shore, through the deep shadows thrown by the cliffs until Dean spotted a large cave mouth. He ran over, the dogs at his heels until he stood almost under the overhang. He looked back to Charger who had hung back and Impala who stood back with the other dog. They both eyed the cave warily, refusing to get any nearer. Usually Dean would trust his dogs, but Sammy was in that cave. And no matter how dangerous it was, Dean was going to find Sam.


	9. Left and Leaving

Dean took a deep breath and crossed the threshold of the cave, hand going to his hunting knife in its sheath on his belt. As he crossed the invisible barrier he felt a jolt of strange energy travel through his body, almost like the energy in the woods but somehow lighter. He curiously turned back to examine the energy field and found it to be a solid wall behind him. Dean took this to be reassuring because it meant that Sam was probably still in the cave. Dean sent out a quick prayer to every deity he could think of, asking for help keeping his brother safe. He carefully examined the walls of the cave, noting the depth of the marking as well as their meticulous lay out and lines. The sheer power this place radiated made Dean nervous.

Dean looked out of the mouth of the cave to where the dogs were nervously pacing. He called out to them and Impala's ears perked up immediately. She whined and shuffled a little closer to the cave. Dean's voice was low and reassuring as he coaxed her towards the cave. Whatever it was that he was going to be facing, he would feel better with his dog at his side. With one last pitiful whine, Impala slunk forwards into the cave, leaving Charger lying in the grass by the river, steadfastly ignoring Dean. Impala quickly moved into Deans personal space, pressing insistently up against his side. He ran his hands over her head reassuringly, crouching down to be level with her.

"That's it Baby, there's a good girl."

He murmured softly to the dog, stroking her and calming her nerves until she stopped shaking.

"Ok Baby, let's go find Sammy."

Dean began to carefully move deeper into the cave, making as little noise as possible. He was incredibly light on his feet and seemed to melt directly into the shadows. Impala followed him, her nails making almost inaudible clicking sounds on the hard stone. She followed him through the shadows, both of them sliding effortlessly into their hunting habits.

They slunk through the cave, tracking Sam's footprints in the thick dust. As they got further into the cave, the floor grew thick with moss and water, but patches of it were disturbed, and Dean was reasonably sure that Sam had come through at least this far unharmed. Dean stopped when he noticed that the tunnel ahead was suspiciously bright. Up ahead it seemed to widen out significantly, and Dean thought it probably opened up into a cavern or something, but that didn't explain why there was so much light so far underground. Impala nudged the back of his leg, encouraging him further forward. He reluctantly proceeded, now incredibly wary of the lack of shadows.

When Dean passed through into the cavern he felt his breath catch in his throat. This place was, for lack of a better word, incredible. The sun shone brightly overhead but the breeze was only comfortably warm. The sky was a the perfect shade of blue and the green fields below shifted with the wind. The river that ran through the space sparkled with flashes of fish in its depths. The trees were tall and proud and seemed impossibly old. Somewhere birds were chirping. Part of Dean ached to explore the ancient, towering forest, run through the trees and find out what lived within it. He ached for the thrill of the chase, for a good hunt. The other part of him though, was looking intently for all signs of Sammy.

He found the roughly hewn stairs and began descending them, Impala in tow. When he reached the bottom he searched carefully in the grass for any patterns that would suggest of Sam's whereabouts. He followed the imprints in the grass into the middle of the grassy field that was somehow both under the stairs and under the sky. It was there that he found Sammy curled up in a ball in the grass.

Sam looked like a wreck. He was defensively curled up, his long limbs tucked into his body. His long hair was tangled and in a state of intense disarray. His face was crusted with tear tracks and he stared blankly in the vague direction of the river. Dean approached him carefully, the way he would approach an injured animal, wary and gently. When his hand touched Sam's shoulder he felt the younger man tense before quickly spinning around to look at him.

"Dean?"

Sam's face scrunched up in confusion. Dean smiled gently at him.

"Heya Sammy."

Sam looked around, panicked.

"Dean what are you doing here! You can't be here!"

Sam scooted closer to Dean where he was crouched in the grass. The look in his eyes was wild with fear.

"Dean you have to leave! Now! _Please._ Before it finds out you're here."

There was an ominous scraping grind behind them before a shadow fell upon the brothers in the grass. A deep rumbling voice filled the cavern.

"I find the sudden presence of a second human in my realm both confusing and unsatisfactory. I must ask that you leave at once."

Dean locked eyes with Sam, refusing to turn around yet, instead measuring his brother's reaction to the thing behind him. Dean took a deep breath.

"What do you want with Sam? Let him go too. We'll both leave and it will be like we were never here."

A rumbling came from the being that sounded like a growl. Dean's hands tightened on Sam's shoulders. The creature spoke again.

"You fail to understand human. I wish to punish the trespasser on my lands, however I am not at peace with the idea of having two of you remaining here, outnumbering me and making my cavern feel too small. Turn and leave the way you came."

Dean exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut. Sam looked at him, tilting his head in confusion.

"Keep me instead."

Sam's sharp inhale told Dean all he needed to know about his younger brother's opinion of what he just said.

"Let Sam go. I will stay for his punishment if you let him go."

The creature hummed in thought. It was a deep sound that seemed to reverberate through the very earth. Sam threw a fierce look at Dean. Sam opened his mouth to speak but the creature spoke first.

"It is not of import to me which of you stays. I will give you twenty earth minutes to make your decision."

The creature left with the curious scraping sound. Sam turned his best bitch-face to Dean, ready to tell him off, but Dean just calmly held up a hand, stopping his train of thought.

"Sammy I know what you're going to say, and before you start, there's nothing you can say to me that will change my mind. I'm staying here, and I'm sending you home to the village where some poor girl is going to take pity on you and look after you. You're going to take your dumb dog home and you're going to look after my place and you're going to keep hunting or get a job in the village or whatever you have to do to support yourself."

Sam made a choked off sound in his throat, slinging his arms around his brothers throat and tackling him into a fierce embrace. His voice came out muffled, his face pressed into his brother's shoulder.

"Damn it Dean I can't just leave you in the cave with some monster and go live a happy life in the village like nothing happened!"

Dean tightened his hold on Sam. He laughed once, bitter and cold.

"Sammy you gotta. I promised Mom and Dad that I'd look after you and right now this is the best I can do. I need you to leave and be safe and normal and never come back to this place, can you promise me that?"

Sam pulled away, making a sound of protest in his mouth. Dean just looked at him sharply.

"Promise me Sam."

Sam looked at Dean sadly, tears dancing in his eyes. When his voice came out it was small and thin, on the verge of breaking.

"I promise."

Dean and Sam shifted, moving to sit side by side in the field, shoulders bumping slightly as they breathed. The time slipped by too quickly and soon the creature was back, standing behind them, its shadow long in the slowly setting sun.

"It is time for one of you to leave."

Its voice faded in the wind and Sam reluctantly rose to leave, clapping his hand on his brothers shoulder as he walked away. He made it a few feet before Dean hear him stop and turn around.

"I love you Dean."

Dean choked back tears, his throat suddenly far too tight. His heart broke with the knowledge that he would never see his brother again. He couldn't even bear to look at Sam, not wanting his last memory of Sam to be of him walking away. Instead he sighed and swallowed a sob managing to speak just loud enough.

"I know Sammy. I love you too. Now get out of here. And look after yourself."

Sam walked away. Dean could hear his footsteps getting softer and softer until he stopped being able to hear them all together. Behind him he could hear the creature shifting. He couldn't bring himself to look at the creature, grief outweighing his burning curiosity. A long moment elapsed in which tears streamed down Dean's face. The sun was low on the horizon before the creature spoke again.

"He has gone."

Dean's heart sank with the setting sun.


	10. Not a Beast, an Angel

**A/N: Hi hi, haven't addressed you yet in this story and I thought I'd take just a second to explain a little bit. Firstly, big thanks to anyone who has reviewed this story, it is of course much appreciated and I love hearing from readers. Next, if you're having trouble imagining what Cas looks like, the "true form Castiel" tag on Tumblr is at least a good start, although not completely true to what I've written. Also if anyone's curious about where Sam's dog's name came from, when Sam drives his own car in Season 6, it's a Dodge Charger. One last thing, I know that the chapters are a little short, and I think it's going to be something I work on from here on out, I've just been bogged down with midterms (because starting a fic in the middle of midterm season is always a good idea...) and I was trying to push myself to keep the story moving even if it was just a little bit at a time. From here though, since most of my midterms are over, I'm going to try and pound out some longer chapters for you guys, but by "longer" I don't mean that much longer because I just don't have time to pound out 5,000 word chapters every other day, Sorry!. Anyways, hope you're enjoying the story, and I'm done rambling... Allons-y!**

The sun rose, set and rose again before Dean stirred from his place in the grass He had sat silent and unmoving, staring off into the distance for the last day and a half, lost in his grief. He would have sat there longer, but Impala whined, head in his lap and lifted up to look at him. He realized with a start that his stomach was growling. He immediately felt guilty about forgetting to feed Impala. He sighed loudly and reluctantly got up from the ground, his joints creaking in protest. He stretched his stiff body, rotating his spine and wincing as his vertebrae popped and shifted beneath his skin. As he turned around, finally ready to face the creature and go in search of food, he realized with a start that the creature hadn't moved from its place behind him.

The creature stood, impossibly still, in the exact place he estimated it had been two nights ago. Dean furrowed his brow, crossing his arms defensively. For the moment he ignored the appearance of the thing. Having come in contact with many strange beings in his time, Dean could compartmentalize an almost unhealthy amount of information to be examined (or not examined) later. Once he had his head on straight, he promised himself, he would analyze the thing and determine what exactly it was. For now it was just weirdly translucent, kind of glowing and _glittery _because of how it's glass-like body caught and refracted sunlight. Dean snorted. What kind of self respecting creature let itself sparkle?

"You know that your ... uh ... _staring_, is kinda creepy dude."

Dean used the term staring very loosely, as the face that was actually watching him intently didn't exactly have eyes per se but Dean couldn't shake the feeling like it was looking not just at him but through him. The creature tilted its blank face to the side, studying Dean intently.

"Your soul is unusually bright human"

Dean hated to admit it but the power in the _thing_'s voice rocked him to the core and made him intensely uncomfortable. It was an old kind of power, full of emotion and experience and _time_. Dean suddenly felt cold, despite the sun blazing overhead. He shifted from foot to foot, his hand finding his dog's head. He glanced down at Impala who was being unusually quiet. She seemed more at peace and more relaxed around the creature than any stranger she had ever encountered. Dean found it incredibly suspicious that the only stranger she would like would be something that wasn't even human. He narrowed his eyes and filed the information away for now.

"Uh, thanks I guess. But you seriously need to work on your people skills there guy. or girl, or whatever the hell you are. "

The creature's wings shifted a bit like they were going to extend to their full width, but the creature stopped them from unfolding.

"You are not the first human to remark that my people skills are _rusty_, I believe the term was."

Dean barely stifled a chuckle at the strange term coming out of the even stranger creature. He rolled his shoulders and aimed for nonchalance.

"Yeah great, so you're not one for social interaction, perfect, me either. Before I get out of your hair and move to the most secluded part of this cave I can find, where exactly would I go about finding food in this place?"

The creature turned and sent a cursory glance over the land. The monkey head of the creature let out a shrill peal of laughter and bared its teeth in Dean's direction. Dean tightened his fingers in Impalas fur and flinched back involuntarily. The cat head let loose a volley of hisses and growls in return and the monkey shrieked. Dean's fear flared in his stomach. Beside him Impala didn't even flinch. Dean looked at her incredulously and then looked back to the creature, eyes narrowed and body tense.

"And hey Buddy, while we are doing twenty questions here, what the _hell_ did you do to my dog?"

Dean's voice was hard and suspicious. The creature didn't even turn around. The zebra brayed loudly, silencing the other two animals.

"I communicated with her on an instinctual level and showed her she had nothing to fear. Your companion is perfectly fine."

Dean's head reeled and he looked down at his dog and back up to the creature.

"What does that even _mean_?"

The creature turned back to Dean, transparent wings relaxed against its back.

"I touched her soul with my grace and conveyed to her safety and peace. Your beast knows that I mean her no ill will."

Dean shepherded Impala behind him and drew himself up to his full height, which considering the creature in front of him was rather less than intimidating.

"And yeah speaking of beasts, what the hell are you supposed to be huh?"

The creatures wings flared out on either side of it, with the sound of wind-chimes in a storm. The overlapping feathers cast strange patterns on the grass. The creatures wings must have spanned thirty feet or more, dwarfing Dean in its unearthly half shadow. The glow in the things chest flared brighter for a moment before settling back to its previous state. Dean took a few involuntary steps back, his veins full of ice. Even Impala moved backwards warily. If Dean thought the creatures voice was loud before, its voice now was practically deafening, vibrating with barely contained rage

"I am not a beast"

Dean quickly realized the defensive position his body had gone into instinctually and fought to straighten himself up. Intending to at least pretend that he was as confident as his words. His voice betrayed him though, trembling just slightly.

"Then what are you?"

The creature stretched itself to its full length vertically and horizontally, drawing its body out in a display of pride and aggressive confidence.

"I am Castiel. I am an angel of the lord."

Once Dean's heart had quieted its thundering in his chest, he was able to smooth his ragged breathing at the aggressive display. A small part of him just wanted to collapse into a little ball in the grass and protect himself. The angels power was so strong in the air that it was almost a taste the wind. He felt a brief flare of shame at the completely raw and involuntary way that he was reacting to the creature. Damn it, he wasn't usually a nervous guy! He was almost glad for a second that Sammy wasn't around to see how weak his older brother was acting. That flare of relief was immediately followed by a wave of regret and grief so potent that he had to press a hand firmly against his own chest to hold himself together and stop himself from throwing up. When he quelled his nausea, he was able to piece his thoughts together enough to respond to the creature- angel's? - statement. His brow scrunched in confusion. Impala nosed at his palm, licking him once comfortingly.

"An angel? Really dude? You expect me to believe you're an angel? I didn't think they even existed, and if they did I thought they were supposed to be all soft and fluffy with halos and shit. Which no offense but you definitely are _not_."

The creature growled. It sounded like plates of the earth shifting against each other and it made the hair on the back of Dean's neck rise. The angel practically spat his next words at Dean.

"This is my true form tiny one. Humans should never even see an angel like this, they are not worthy of such an honor. To be on earth I _should _require a vessel, which would be _soft and fluffy _as you described."

"I am an... _exception_."

Dean scoffed.

"An exception huh? Yeah tell me about it. Exception is always just code for outcast or freak."

The angels wings drooped. Dean blinked and all of a sudden the angel was gone, leaving only a faint smell of burnt air and a tinkling of glass to prove it had been there at all. Dean felt oddly guilty, but was easily distracted by his rumbling stomach. He took a deep breath before nudging Impala and heading towards the forest, expecting that with all his experience that he would probably be able to rustle up something at least edible.


	11. Cas, Like Castiel

Dean wandered about in the forest for hours, but to no avail. No matter where he went he couldn't seem to spot any animals large or small, just songbirds. He couldn't even find trace of any land animals existing in the forest. No bones, no markings, no waste or shed fur. Nothing.

Shaking his head, Dean kicked at the grass. Figures. He was in some weird, impossible underground cave _thing_, why would there be anything normal like animal life in the forest. So what was he supposed to eat? What did the angel eat? Did it have to eat? That was a freaky thought. Did it sleep? Dean thought back to the last few days but couldn't remember for sure. For some reason he thought no.

Dean huffed in frustration, the gnawing in his stomach getting worse as time wore on. When the sun went down Dean realized that he hadn't slept in days. Not properly since he got back from the hunt, but even then it was only a few stolen hours. The weariness he had been suppressing since arriving in the cave caught up with him. It hit him all at once, his body suddenly heavy as a ton of lead. His eyes stung as he fought to keep them open.

Without the presence of any significant predators in the forest, Dean thought he would probably be safe enough sleeping on the ground. Impala would sleep beside him and keep watch for predators and threats. She might not be much help against the beast, with her strange behavior towards him, but she was better that nothing. Dean liked to think that if the angel tried to hurt him in any way, Impala would defend him, _soul touching_ or not. And honestly, that whole bit about souls freaked him out more than he would care to admit. If he had a soul, he'd like to think what was in it was _private_ thank you very much. He didn't want some freaky, stares too much, winged monkey looking at it, much less telling him that it was bright or whatever. The dude freaked him out.

Once Dean found a satisfactory place to curl up for the night, he could feel his eyelids fighting desperately to close. The wind was warm and soothing, and it ruffled his clothes and hair. The birds chirped above as they settled themselves in for the night. Dean felt himself drifting to sleep, the slow descent into darkness.

Dean didn't usually dream.

And when he did, it wasn't vividly like this.

He stood at the edge of a lake looking out at the water, everything around him placid and still. He inhaled and the air was cold enough to burn on the inhale, but clean and fresh. The lake steamed, sending up foggy tendrils. Everything about this place made him feel peaceful and safe even though he was sure he had never been there before.

Suddenly Dean caught movement out of the corner of his eye and realized that he wasn't alone. Absorbed as he was in the landscape, he hadn't noticed the man's approach. He was a stranger but he didn't put Dean ill at ease like most strangers did. Something about him seemed light and _warmth_. Dean looked at him curiously, cataloging his appearance. He wasn't a particularly large man, slighter in stature to Dean but nearly as tall. His hair was dark and wild, skin white and smooth like fresh cream. His eyes were blue, almost too bright to be real, and they made Dean think of something else, but the harder he tried to think of what it was, the more easily it escaped him. He had a clean profile, the other man, all straight lines. Dean's impression was that the man was quite beautiful.

The man looked at him, held his stare for a moment and then looked away. Dean coloured, embarrassed to be caught studying him so intensely. He shifted his gaze to the lake, looking out over the landscape. He thought that he should probably say something to the other man, it would be the polite thing to do. To greet him at least.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ to the strangely fine-boned man beside him.

He woke with a start on the forest floor. The sun was already high in the sky. Dean had slept much longer than he thought he would. But, he mused, other than his immediate biological needs, he had no reason to be awake. He had nowhere to be, no social obligations to fulfill, no responsibilities. His first thought was that he should find the angel, ask him about getting something to eat, and maybe apologize after, because the only thing stronger than Dean's guilt complex was his stomach.

* * *

Finding the angel proved to be easier than Dean had thought it would be. He only had to wander back out to the field to find the angel. The angel was folded up in on itself in what looked like a small mountain of glass that glinted in the sunlight. Dean approached slowly, unsure of the best method of dealing with something he didn't really know the limits of. For all he knows this thing could vaporize him with a blink of its weird zebra eye, or devour him through the feline head or tear his soul out of his body through the weird blank mouth on the mask-face. Dean shuddered to think of the possibilities.

As he neared, the pile shifted, the thing rising to its feet. The creature turned to look at him, fixing him with its blank stare.

"Hello Dean"

Dean was thrown off for a moment. He wasn't sure where he stood with this thing. Is he a _prisoner_ prisoner or a prisoner that was actually more of a_ pet_ or something. He didn't like the sound of being the creatures plaything but he liked it a helluva lot more than he liked the idea of torture.

"Uh, Hey freaky angel thing. I'm not sure that I ever told you my name..."

The angel sighed. Or at least Dean thought it did. It was hard to tell because he didn't exactly have a frame of reference here.

"You may call me Castiel. I have seen your soul Dean Winchester, I hardly need to be told your name."

Dean squirmed at that. What exactly did this thing - _Castiel_ - know?

"Yeah about that Cas, when you say you _saw my soul_... What does that mean? Do you know everything about me? And by the way, how do I know you haven't reached into me and scrambled my soul around like you did to my dog."

Castiel tilted his blank face, examining Dean.

"Cas?"

Dean huffed.

"Yeah. Cas, like Castiel but less pompous and long-winded. Cas. That's your name from here on out. And really? Of all the stuff I said, that's what you picked out? A damn nickname?"

Castiel twined his fingers together, creating a pleasant tinkling sound of wind chimes. He fidgeted until he realized what he was doing and then stilled. Dean looked at him pointedly and gestured at him to "please, go on".

"Cas. Cas. Cas. _Cas_."

Castiel tilted his head back and forth, his low voice rolling the word around in his mouth, testing the way it sounded as he said it with different intonations. Dean rolled his eyes, hands on his hips. He cleared his throat pointedly. Castiel immediately focused back on him.

"Cas. I think I find this name pleasing human. I shall allow you to use it. But to answer your question from previously, I refrained from communing directly with your soul because I did not think you would be amenable to it."

Dean grumbled, eyes narrowing.

"Damn right I'm not _amenable_ to it. What did you see while you were in there?"

Castiel half turned to look at the position of the sun in the sky. He turned back to look at Dean.

"You have not eaten in many hours."

Dean's stomach grumbled as if on cue and he found himself blushing slightly.

"Uh, yeah, that's actually why I came to find you actually."

Castiel's chest glowed for a moment before a stream of the clear bluish light emerged from him and swirled in the grass in front of him. As the light dissipated, a small feast became visible. Dean looked at the food suspiciously. Castiel shrugged in a way that looked entirely unnatural with his long limbs.

"I sometimes forget that humans need sustenance regularly. The food is safe to eat."

Dean paused, looking at Castiel with narrowed eyes.

"Do you not like it? I can make something else if you would prefer."

Castiel looked at Dean in the way that unnerved him. He shook himself and moved towards the food. It smelled positively divine and he couldn't wait to try it. He hesitated though, turning half back to look at Castiel.

"How do I know I can trust you Cas?"

Castiel's cat face hissed. His wings half flared out before he got them under control.

"I am an angel of the lord. Why would I lie?"

Dean blew a large breath out through his mouth.

"Well it's this or starve I guess."

He dug into the food before him, suddenly not feeling quite as bad about the whole situation as he once had because _damn_ Cas could make food.


	12. To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

**a/n: Hey, I am so sorry it's taken so long for an update! School/my friends have been crazy this last week and I have had zero time for writing. The next few updates might be a little slow because of my last few midterms/papers and then exam season, but I promise I haven't abandoned this story! Thanks for your patience! - xox Lady Eliot**

A few days passed in a similar fashion, Dean spending as much time wandering in the woods as he could, approaching Castiel only when his hunger became too strong to ignore. They interacted as little as possible, just stunted conversations, questions about food preferences or the layout of the caves. Their meetings lasted no more than an hour each time, and Dean always took as much food as he could with him to the forest so he could stay away as long as he could. He had fashioned himself a lean-to shelter in the woods from some saplings he tore down. He didn't actually need the shelter, with no predators around and as far as he could tell, no inclement weather. But it made him feel better, and if nothing else, gave him something to do.

Dean was restless to say the least. He was _bored_. He was also tired, reluctant to sleep because of the weird dreams he'd been having about the strange man. Dean wasn't sure why the dreams made him so uncomfortable. It wasn't like they were nightmares like he used to have or anything. They were just strange. Too peaceful, he supposed. He wasn't used to such easy rest, and he most definitely wasn't used to the easy-found intimacy of silence that he somehow established with the stranger in his dreams. Dean knew, of course, that the man wasn't real and that the strange interactions in his sleep were nothing to concern himself with, but it was enough to make him wary of sleep.

For three nights he and the man had stood at the edge of the still, calm lake. Dean tried once, on the second night, to talk to the other man, but was ignored. The next night he tried again, but had no better luck. They spent the rest of the night looking out at the sun dancing off the water, no words between them. It was easy between them, the only sounds the far-off chirp of songbirds, the wind whipping through the trees and the lap of the water on the shore. The sun was warm on his skin but the wind was slightly cold. Sometimes Dean shivered with the wind, but the other man seemed unfazed by the weather. He just stood still, as if rooted. Dean spent a large part of most nights just looking at him, unsure of what it was that made him seem so strange. On the third night he realized what it was. The other man never moved, only occasionally swiveling his head to look fleetingly at Dean and then away. He seemed nearly robotic, like he had never known anything else, never moved, only known this place. He sometimes ached to reach out and touch the other man, just to reassure himself that he was real or at least as real as he could be in a dream. But whenever he got the courage to move closer, the other man leveled him with a stare heavy as lead and Dean couldn't move. He usually woke shortly after.

On the fourth night, Dean found himself on the shores of the lake once again, the man in the tan coat still as ever beside him. Dean huffed in frustration, bored in life and also of this dream. Tonight it would be different, he decided. Dean drew his courage around him, ignoring the curious glance the other man sent him. He turned away from the other man and began to walk along the shore of the lake, away from the other man. He cast a glance over his shoulder, finding the other man still standing in his spot by the lake, puzzled look on his face, as if he never had the thought that he could move. His eyebrows drew together. Dean fought labeling it as adorable, letting the though slip away and pretending it never occurred.

Dean kept walking. The shore turned into forest up ahead and Dean paused. He turned over his shoulder to look back one last time to see what the man would do. The shore was empty. The man was gone. The only evidence that he had been there at all was a small area of flattened grass. Dean was filled with an unexpected sense of disappointment. He turned back to the forest, intending to continue on his exploration of the shore. He shrugged his shoulders, moving through the tree line. It was much darker in the forest, the air still and warm.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement. With a start he realized that the man from the shore was walking alongside him. He felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and tried unsuccessfully to quell it. The other man looked at him with an undecipherable look, looking right through him. The stare reminded him of something but he couldn't seem to place it. The man's blue eyes abruptly turned away and Dean found himself once more awake in his makeshift shelter. It was always disorienting to find yourself wrenched from a dream into the reality of being a prisoner in a weird cave-thing. Dean chuckled a little to himself. Neither of the scenarios seemed much like reality if you asked him.

The fifth and sixth nights go the same, always picking up where they left off, wandering through the woods, no words exchanged. Sometime during the sixth night Dean's loneliness starts to curl in his chest. He misses Sam, he misses Bobby the butcher, he misses Victor who sometimes hunts with him, hell he even misses freakin Ruby, who always used to accost him in the tavern, and he _hates_ her. Dean hates that he's being like this. He's been away in the woods for weeks at time and hasn't missed humanity this acutely. The captivity and boredom are just making everything a million times worse. And the guy in his dream, the only person he has been exposed to in over a week, won't even talk to him, and will only look at him when he's staring too much or doing something weird. Dean hates it. He misses talking to people, sharing meals with them, misses the occasional clap on the back from Bobby, wrestling with Sam, the touch of the occasional man or woman from the village when the need gets too great and even if he'd never admit it, he even misses the reassuring warmth of his brother sleeping by his side through the winter, the only times he knows for sure that Sam is safe.

Halfway through the seventh night, Dean snaps. Without looking he reaches out and takes the other man's hand in his. The man's hand is warm and soft and it anchors Dean in a way he wasn't expecting. He just missed touching. Dean was a tactile man, although he fought it tooth and nail. He comforted and reassured with touch, he communicated affection through a squeeze of a shoulder or a brief hug. He liked to hold and be held after sex. He also thought it made him weak. The show of vulnerability before the strange man and the sudden increase in the intimacy between the two of them made his face flare. He chanced a look at the other man, trying to gauge his reaction. The other man merely looked at their joined hands in confusion before looking away and continuing to walk through the forest. Deans heart began to slow and he relaxed, allowing the sounds of the forest to comfort and soothe him.

He woke with pangs of hunger in his lean to. For the first time since arriving to the cave he felt at peace. His loneliness didn't eat him from the inside the way it had before. It still lay there, curled around his ribs, but it wasn't so insistent. Abruptly, he realized that he suddenly had the desire to talk to someone. To sit for hours and converse about something, the simple pleasure of company. With a sinking heart he realized he had no one to converse with. Except, no, he couldn't talk to Castiel could he? Would the angel even be much for conversation? He steeled himself and went off to find the angel in search of food, and for the first time, company as well.


	13. A Little Less than Lonely

Dean emerged from the forest, blinking furiously against the bright sunlight. Impala butted her head into his hand before leaping forward and barking loudly. She looked up at Dean as she wiggled her dark body, tail wagging back and forth. He looked at her affectionately and laughed. She danced around his feet, yapping excitedly. He rolled his eyes and picked up a fallen branch from the grass. Dean snapped the branch in half before throwing it across the clearing. Impala went bounding after it, weaving through the tall grass. Dean shook his head and chuckled softly.

"Wonder what's gotten into her today."

The sun was warm on his face and it made him happier than he'd been in days, allowing the warm light to settle like a balm on his bad mood. Dean tried his best to try to dodge the feeling that his current lightheartedness had to do with his contact with the silent man in last night's dream. Dean refused to be so pathetic as to allow an imaginary man to effect his moods so dramatically. As he neared the centre of the clearing he found a table that was, as usual, laden with food.

How the table was holding together under such a load, Dean wasn't sure. There were steaming bowls of stew with fresh baked bread, crisp vegetables, perfectly roasted rabbits and potatoes, a platter of the mushrooms Dean liked that only grew in the west quadrant of the forest outside of town, a bushel of shining red and yellow apples, and Dean's most favorite part; a large selection of pies. Every time he came to the clearing the food was different, the only constant being the pies. Today however, the food looked particularly delicious. Dean approached the table, casting his eyes around for a glimpse of Castiel.

For the first time since he arrived in the cavern, Castiel was not in the field. Dean felt a shadow of disappointment fall over his good mood. The one day he decides that he needs some social interaction and the damn angel is nowhere to be found. He collected some of the food onto a plate and sunk into the grass. Impala flopped down beside him, enthusiastically chewing on the stick she had gone to fetch. She quickly ignored the stick when Dean held out a large piece of the crispy rabbit for her. She picked it daintily out of his hand, settling contentedly in the warm grass. Dean bit into one of the crisp apples and leaned back on his elbows.

"Where do you think Cas has run off to girl?"

Impala briefly stopped chewing to look at Dean. When he failed to offer her a command or more food, she turned away, more interested in the rabbit than Dean for the moment. Dean smiled.

"He's just usually out here is all."

Dean froze when he heard a soft tinkling sound behind him. The wind whipped slightly before settling down, although it was slightly warmer than it had been a few moments ago. Castiel shifted behind Dean with the sound of wind chimes. His voice never failed to surprise Dean, somehow he was always put off by the strange deep quality that reverberated through Cas' words.

"Hello Dean."

Dean turned his head to look over his shoulder at Cas. From his place on the grass, Dean thought Cas looked enormous. Dean gestured at the grass beside him. Cas hesitated, unsure of what the peculiar human was asking of him. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sit down would you? I'm gonna throw out my neck trying to look up at you."

Castiel tilted his head to the side.

"You wish me to sit with you and dine?"

Dean sat up into a crossed leg position, dusting his hands against his pants. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess we might as well get to know some stuff about each other if I'm gonna be here a while."

Castiel sank to the ground beside Dean with the sound of shattering glass. Dean shifted slightly away from the angel.

"Whoa dude, personal space."

The angel stared at him blankly. Dean squirmed under the close scrutiny. He looked away. Castiel continued looking at him.

"I do not understand."

Dean laughed, clearly uncomfortable. He pulled the plate into his lap and started picking apart the bits of rabbit he hadn't given to Impala.

"Whatever Cas, don't worry about it."

Castiel finally turned away from Dean, fixing his strange blank face on the waterfall in the distance. Silence sits heavy in the air.

"Something is troubling you."

Dean cast a sidelong glance at Castiel.

"Yeah? How'd you figure that?"

Castiel's monkey head cackled. The zebra huffed a warning and the heads quieted.

"You have not slept."

Dean put the plate down, food uneaten. He looked at Castiel, eyes narrowing.

"And how do you know that?"

Castiel fixed his eyes on Dean, their peculiar glow stinging Dean's eyes as he refused to blink.

"The forest is constructed of my grace, Dean. I sense all that happens within it."

Dean crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"So you've been watching me sleep? No offense dude, but that's like insanely creepy."

Castiel tilted his head again, drawing his knees close to his body and wrapping his long arms around them. His wings flared briefly before settling quiet against his back.

"What troubles you Dean?"

Dean moved his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. He looked at the grass.

"I just, miss Sammy you know?"

Castiel rested his chin on his folded knees and readjusted his wings.

"I do not know. Humans feel emotions in a different way to angels. I have many brothers but none that I feel particular kinship with. Angels love all things, most of all God, but I do not hold any special affections for my kind."

Dean shook his head, letting out a long breath through his nose. He picked at the grass, twirling a long grass stalk in between the fingers of his left hand.

"Shit Cas, I feel bad for you. Sounds like a lonely existence man."

Castiel's cat head hissed. His wings twitched as if they longed to draw securely around him but he managed to still them before they moved far.

"I have not had a companion for many millennia."

Dean turned sharply to look at him.

"How the hell old are you?"

Cas grew silent for a moment. Dean stared at him incredulously.

"I existed before your universe was created, and I will exist long after it dies."

Dean's eyes widened.

"Shit. That's a damned long time."

Castiel's shoulders drooped. Dean scrunched his brows together, curious for more information but intimidated by what he had just learned. His voice was soft and surprisingly gentle when he next spoke.

"How long have you been holed up in here alone Cas?"

Castiel sighed, his wings finally coming to rest around his shoulders like a barrier against the outside world. Dean could still see him through the transparent material, although he was slightly distorted. When Cas spoke his voice was slightly muffled but still easy to understand.

"It was nearly one hundred and fifty thousand years ago that I was banished to live here on earth. I roamed the land for a few thousand years, until humankind became too populous, spread too far. Then I chose a place and wove it with my grace to be safe and secret and beautiful. I have been alone in this place many more years than I am capable of counting."

Castiel's voice was mournfully sad and Dean felt his heart clench in his chest. He shifted closer to the angel. He hesitated a brief moment before he let his hand rest gently on the smooth glass of the angel's wing. Castiel tensed.

"I have never known of a human who has touched an angel in their true form."

Dean's face morphed into panic and he shifted backwards as if he would move away. Castiel turned his face slightly towards Dean.

"Wait. Please do not move. I find it -"

Castiel paused for a long moment, looking for the word. Dean let his hand gently wander over the smooth material, like he would if he were stroking Sam's hair to soothe him after a bad nightmare.

"- I find it comforting."

Dean smiled. The tension began to bleed out of the angel. Dean kept stroking the wings gently, reveling in their strange texture. They were rigid and smooth but also strangely soft, and incredibly warm. After a few long moments Dean realized what he was doing and moved away. Dean cleared his throat and climbed to his feet. Castiel gathered his wings and moved them to rest behind his back.

"I should get back to the forest."

Dean started collecting food to take back to his shelter. Before he walked away he turned to look at Castiel one last time. Castiel was still watching him with what looked to be curiosity. Dean shifted his pack on his shoulder.

"I'll uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

Castiel turned away to look again at the waterfall in the distance.

"Yes Dean. Tomorrow."


	14. A New Forest, A New Outlook

**A/n: Hey hey, just wanted to let you know I'm in exam period now so no promises on when the next update will come. Just know that it will (I have this thing plotted to the end so no worries there). For clarity from here on in, dream sequences will be in italics. Also, sorry if anyone got weird notifications, ff was giving me some trouble when I tried to do this update. Hopefully it's working now. Enjoy!**

Dean woke in the forest to the chirping of birds. The sun was high in the sky and he felt incredibly well rested. As he came more into consciousness, he realized that he had a crick in his spine and his body was practically twitching from disuse. He crawled out of his makeshift shelter and stretched in the forest, inhaling the sharp smell of the pine trees and the musky aroma of decaying leaves. He twisted his body around, resettling his spine with a volley of satisfying pops. He let out a sigh. He could practically feel himself getting soft, moping about the cave. He felt a twitch of guilt low in his belly, realizing that his selfishness has lead to his dog not getting a proper run in what probably by now had added up to weeks. Dean had lost count.

He realized quite suddenly that he had stopped counting the passage of days. He had eaten a handful of meals here, but that was a poor indicator of time because he had been avoiding eating to avoid Castiel. He had slept more times than he had eaten but even that was a suspect measurement due to his initial hesitance to sleep because of his strange dreams. Dean's heart wrenched painfully when his mind unavoidably drifted to Sam. He immediately slammed a lid on that box, refusing to acknowledge thoughts about his brother. Thinking about Sam just made him depressed and guilt sick.

Dean jogged on the spot for a few minutes before stretching out his legs and taking a series of deep breaths. There was nothing he could do about his emotional shit, but he could remedy the softening of his instincts and physicality. Maybe a good run might even give him an hour's peace from the damaging thoughts that his mind had been so fond of as of late. When his body felt warm and ready, he took off deeper into the woods, Impala easily keeping pace beside him.

Dean ran for miles. Running was easy, it was uncomplicated. Dean was used to the rugged terrain of the forest, the unexpected dips and valleys that anyone else might miss and roll an ankle. Dean had grown up in the forest, he had been hunting since before Sam could walk. The familiar burn of air in his lungs was comforting to him. The strain of exertion cleared his head of everything until the only thing left was the rhythmic thudding of his feet on the soft ground. Dean liked to run, but most of all he liked to hunt. To him, running was more of a means to an end. He was used to chasing prey through the trees, animalistic and raw. Dean eventually tired of running. There was no challenge in running just for the sake of running. No emotional connection, no hunting instincts to follow. Just the wind flying by, the sound of the forest and the sweat running down his body.

Dean pushed on, running until his legs nearly gave out beneath him. Just when he thought he might collapse if he went any further, he pulled up. He slowed to a walk, and began to calm his breathing and heart rate. When he had cooled slightly, he dropped into long grass and started to meticulously stretch his muscles out. Once he was satisfied that the burn would settle - wouldn't be dangerous, wasn't from a pulled muscle, merely from exhaustion - he flopped down onto his back. Looking up, he realized that he had an unobstructed view of the sky. The fake sky, his brain traitorously supplied. The sky meant that somehow he had found his way out of the forest and back to the clearing.

Dean lay in the grass for a long time, long enough that he was nearly on the verge of sleep. It was at that moment when a half shadow covered him, obscuring the sunlight in such a way as to notify him of the presence of Castiel. Dean huffed a sigh and opened his eyes, looking at the angel looming over him. Castiel tilted his heads and took in Dean's appearance. Dean looked haggard, his dried sweat crusting his dirty t-shirt to his body, his hair sweat-dried int- unattractive tufts. Castiel regarded him with curiosity.

"Whatcha starin at Cas? And dude, back up you're blockin my sun."

Castiel backed away slightly, watching the ground carefully until his shadow did not touch the man sprawled in the grass.

"I was merely concerned that you had expired from overexertion."

Dean laughed, the action causing his body to spasm in a way that was painful. He grimaced.

"Yeah well, not long off."

Castiel moved to sit in the grass, wary that the movement of his shadow did not in any way obscure the shape of the relaxing Dean.

"If you were tired, why did you not stop earlier?"

Dean rolled over so that he was on his stomach, head laying in the cradle of his folded arms. His voice was muffled by the dirt and grass.

"Running is only good once you get into the headspace man. And it's way harder to get into the headspace without a distraction, or a purpose I guess."

Castiel's wings tinkled lightly in the breeze. He seemed to consider something for a few moments.

"And a purpose, having one of those would make you happy?"

Dean laughed, his breath stirring the grass.

"Yeah man, I mean who doesn't like having a reason to exist."

Castiel wrung his hands together for a moment. He hesitated, body suddenly tense. His monkey and cat face bared their teeth. Dean remained face down in the grass, not looking and Castiel. Castiel examined him closely. After a few minutes, Castiel held his hands in front of him, in a gesture that would have looked defensive if it hadn't have been so sure. His hands began to glow and his eyes narrowed just slightly, not even enough to really be noticed. The breeze slowed and Dean's heartbeats became less frequent. Time slowed down as Castiel wove his grace through the open space and out into the forest beyond. The cavern was briefly illuminated, as if through a flash of lightening. Castiel's posture slumped and time resumed in its regular fashion. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled.

Dean immediately bolted up into a sitting position. Beside him, a weary Impala perked up her ears and raised her head off her front paws. Dean turned to look at Castiel and took in his weary posture.

"Was that a-"

Castiel cut him off.

"A wolf yes."

A moment passed where nothing was said. Dean mulled over the information. Castiel took a few ragged breaths, trying to suppress his exhaustion for the time being. Dean then noticed that the glowing in Castiel's chest was not as bright. In the space of a few of Dean's heartbeats, Castiel's glow had diminished significantly. Dean tried to wrap his head around what this meant. Castiel turned and sent a slow, sweeping gesture towards the forest.

"The woods are filled with life. Treat it with respect. Overhunting these woods would be the same as overhunting any woods."

Dean's eyes widened and he looked at Castiel with awe. His voice came out astonished and choked off.

"I tell you I'm bored and you fill an entire forest with animals for me?"

Castiel shrugged, moving to curl up on himself in the grass.

"You live here as well Dean. This forest is a sanctuary for those who live in it."

Dean looked at Castiel with undisguised wonder. Castiel was infinitely more powerful than Dean had given him credit for. He moved close to Castiel and placed a gentle hand on Castiel's back, right where his glow seemed to originate. Tears threatened to fill Dean's eyes. This was the single most thoughtful thing that anyone had ever done for him and he felt it in his chest, a tidal wave of emotion. Castiel tensed at the contact but then relaxed under the gentle touch. Dean's voice was thick when he forced it out.

"Thank you."

Castiel looked at Dean for a moment before moving away and wrapping his wings securely around himself.

"You are welcome Dean. Now leave me. I require time to recover."

Dean smile split his face as he moved away from Castiel and into the forest. His body ached something fierce, but his excitement and anticipation for a good hunt dulled the sensation. As he neared his makeshift shelter, he noticed that the pattern of trees was different. Where his shelter had sat was now a cozy looking log cabin, much like the one he had shared with Sam back home. He crossed the threshold, a sense of bittersweet nostalgia swimming around inside his head.

The new cabin was small and quaint but comfortable and it had a feather bed that looked like heaven to Dean's sore body. He fell into the bed gratefully, allowing the familiar safety of four walls and a roof to envelop him. That night, Dean fell asleep sore and happy, a smile on his face as he drifted out of consciousness.

_Upon falling asleep, Dean found himself in a familiar section of woods. He didn't even need to turn his head to know that the blue-eyed man in the tan coat was beside him. The man's hand was warm and comforting in his. Dean's exhaustion found him even here and he found himself sinking to the forest floor to recline against a large tree. The other man hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him. They sat there like that for some indeterminate amount of time, the only thing filling the silence the birds and the crickets. After a long while, Dean drew their still joined hands into his lap and rested his head gently on the other man's shoulder. The other man tensed in surprise, much like he did every time Dean initiated something new. Dean closed his eyes and let the feeling of closeness warm him from the inside. After a long stretch of stillness the other man tentatively let his head rest gently on top of Dean's. And if the action caused Dean to smile a little wider, well who was to say. _


	15. The Hunt

**A/n: Hey sorry, I know it's short but I'm in exams and I'm totally procrasti-writing and I actually need to pass so... Anyways I had a question about when this story is supposed to be set and I just wanted to clear that up in case anyone else was curious too. I intended to set it in the same timeframe as the Beauty and the Beast movie/fairytale (which is around the 1700s) but when I was writing dialogue I just got caught up in the way Dean talks and I know that it's not period compliant but I wanted it to seem authentic to the Dean we all know and love. So yeah it's a little wonky but its intended to be set in the past. **

Dean filled his next few days with hunting, bounding through the woods after deer, chasing down larger game like wolves and even going so far as to track a mountain lion into the rocky region around the edge of the forest. He was giddy with excitement for the entirety of those days, barely able to wipe a smile off his face for a few moments. His face ached almost as much as his body. For the first four days he did not return to his cabin, preferring to sleep in rough-hewn structures in the woods. He and Impala chased many animals through the woods but only killed enough for them to eat, taking no trophies. Dean did not take pleasure in killing for killing sake, he just burned with the thrill of the hunt, the base instinct that helped him track and pursue. Many animals he followed until he was within killing range and simply let the animal go. His muscles burned with exhaustion and he relished the feeling, loving the ache of a hard day work.

Mid-afternoon on the fifth day, Dean killed a coyote on his way back to the cabin, shooting it down with a bow he had whittled in his spare time and stabbing it with the dagger he always kept on his belt. Coyotes didn't make good eating but Impala wasn't picky and if she was feeling haughty he could leave the carcass in the woods where it would feed the bugs and scavengers. No, Dean didn't want the meat. What he needed was a nice soft fur for his bed. He carefully skinned his kill and dragged the hide back to the cabin, laying it out carefully across some branches to tan in the sun. Later he would treat the fur properly but for now he was ravenous and tired down to his bones.

Dean put the rabbits down on the sturdy table in his cabin and began to set about building a fire. He carefully skinned the rabbits and took their hides outside to lie alongside that of the coyote. Impala sniffed at the furs before huffing and following Dean back inside the cabin. Dean immediately went to work cutting up the rabbits and putting them in a pot with some of the vegetables he had taken from Castiel last time he had seen him. He tossed Impala some of the scraps and organs he didn't particularly like before setting the pot on the hook in the fire. He moved to his bed and sat down, toeing off his boots. He tried for a few moments to rub some feeling back into his feet but gave up quickly when his eyes drooped. He collapsed into his feather bed, letting out a groan of relief when he felt it give in just the right places to cradle his body. Impala jumped up on the bed and curled around Dean's feet, settling in to keep watch while Dean napped.

_ Dean and the man with the dark hair were once more walking through the forest side by side. Dean looked at him and smiled, his good mood invading even his dreams. The other man hesitantly smiled back and then promptly looked away as if embarrassed. Dean shook his head with a smile. After a few moments they found themselves at the edge of a small creek. Dean watched small fish flitting back and forth in the shallows. He was distracted with their shimmering beauty when he felt a warm hand slip into his. Shocked as he was at the other man making the first contact he didn't react until the other man started to pull away. Dean gently squeezed the hand in his and refused to let go. _

When Dean woke it was dark outside. The rich smell of rabbit stew wafted through the cabin, causing Dean to smile. It smelled damn good, almost as good as Sammy's. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed after carefully nudging Impala off his feet. She hopped gracefully to the floor, moving to sit by the fire where the smell of cooking meat was the strongest. Dean got to his feet with a slight wince, stretching out his sore muscles as he went. He checked on the stew and saw that it was nearly finished, merrily bubbling away. He went to the window to see the time but all he could see were stars. No hint of sun on the horizon. He had only managed to sleep for a few hours but found himself wide awake. He sighed and moved to the stove, bringing the stew out of the heat and dishing out two bowls, one for him and one for his dog. He sat at the table in silence, staring at the uneven grain of the wall opposite him, chewing contemplatively.

Soon though, Dean was finished with his stew and he moved from the table to the window. He wondered, not for the first time, whether Castiel slept. He stood at the window for what seemed like an eternity, listening to the subtle sounds of the forest. Eventually he conceded defeat. He was much too awake to find more rest tonight. He decided that a walk might ease his mind and put him in the mood for more sleep. He struggled back into his boots, blisters screaming in protest where they met the soft, warn leather of his boots. He pulled his jacket on over his shoulders before moving out into the night.


	16. Constellations

**A/n: Hi hi, sorry it has been so long, exams have just finished... Here, have an extra long chapter to make up for it! **

Dean moved silently through the trees, distinctly aware of the prickling feeling of being watched. Hunched in the deep dark between the trees a pack of wolves lurked. Their breath condensed in the air and made swirling clouds that disappeared nearly as quickly as they formed. Their eyes flashed gold when they caught the light of the moon. Dean was not afraid of the wolves. His knife was heavy on his hip but he knew it wouldn't do much good if it came down to a fight. Dean walked past the wolves, head held high. They watched him pass silently, the only sound in the night the caw of a far off raven. They followed him to the edge of the forest, quiet and fluid in the dark. They flowed from shadow to shadow, sometimes seeming like 3, other times like seven or eight.

These woods were different to the ones Dean had hunted in before. They were at the same time more wild and more ordered. The balance in these woods was all wrong but Dean supposed that Castiel had the power to keep it running however he wished. Castiel obviously held a preference for beauty, which lead to some impractical and strange choices. Songbirds that Dean had never encountered in his life filled the trees, exotic wild cats with strange patterns stalked the shadows, the wailing calls of things Dean could not identify sometimes drifted through the woods. Those haunting calls raised gooseflesh on his neck and made him cold to his core. He had no reason to fear an attack of any kind, of that he was sure, but the existence of creatures he had never seen made him wary. Dean didn't know exactly _how _he knew for sure, but he had a feeling that Castiel wouldn't let anything happen to him as long as he lived in the cavern. Even the predators that stalked alongside him in the trees seemed oddly benign, merely curious. Dean fleetingly wondered what would happen if he approached the creatures, wondering if they might simply dissolve into the ground and cease to exist because the idea of a pack of wolves rolling over to bare their bellies to him was a bit ridiculous.

Dean let his mind wander, feeling far too awake. He let his feet carry him blindly through the forest, and before long he could see light streaming through the gaps in the trees up ahead. The light was thin and blue, lower than the fake moon that hung in the stars somewhere high above, etched into stone. The light he realized, must be Castiel. The light seemed to ebb and flow, drawing Dean through the darkness like a moth.

Dean slipped across the threshold of the forest and paused, breath caught in his throat. Castiel lay in the grass, blank face staring up at the stars, glow gently swimming through his glassy body and out, spilling onto the grass and washing the clearing with light. Dean moved quietly towards the angel, his feet making soft sounds in the grass. Castiel looked incredibly peaceful, a beacon of warmth and light in the cool night. Dean wondered for the first time how it was that he had thought Castiel was made of ice. No, he thought, Castiel was surely alive. Dean felt warmer than he had in days.

Castiel moved up onto his elbows as he heard Dean approaching, shifting with a sudden discomfort. Dean immediately felt like an intruder in a very private moment. He turned to leave the way he came but Castiel's rumbling voice broke the silence, imploring him to please, _stay_. It was a simple thing, but it seemed significant to Dean. This was the first time either of them had outright asked anything of the other. The words too conveyed such sadness. They carried an impossibly old, heavy loneliness that made it hard for Dean to breathe.

Dean moved to sit in the grass beside Castiel, close enough to feel the _heat _the angel gave off, the strange, otherworldly hum that seemed to cling to him like skin, but not quite close enough to touch. Beneath him the grass was soft and cool, and Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

They sat like that for some time in silence. The sound of crickets and the wind filling up the spaces between them. The wind shifted Dean's clothes around his body and blew the warmth radiating from Castiel away and Dean shivered. Castiel shifted closer to him as if to block the wind slightly. Dean hid a small smile.

"So Cas, you've been around since the dawn of time right? You've gotta have some good stories about something."

Castiel turned his face heavenward and sighed loudly, his exhale ruffling the trees at the periphery of the forest.

"I have not been around since time began Dean. And if I was, my memory of the event would be incredibly hazy, even God admits that he is rather unsure on some of the details."

Dean laughed and nudged the angel with his elbow.

"Hey now, you know what I meant. Why don't you just tell me something about yourself then? Or something about heaven maybe?"

Castiel was still for a moment. Dean watched Castiel carefully, noting the regal lines of his faces, the way he held himself perfectly straight, the shifting of his pulsing light. The silence was tense and filled with pain on Castiel's end. Castiel broke his silence, punctuated with a shift of his wings against his back.

"I think instead I will tell you the story of how the stars were hung. Does that please you?"

Dean's eyes widened.

"Is that a real story? Like were you there when the stars were made?"

Castiel ground out a laugh, his voice echoing in the cavern and causing a grouping of birds to titter back unhappily.

"Many of the stars were made before, but I was there for the birth of a few stars, yes."

Dean sucked in a breath and looked at Castiel, eyes wide. Castiel shifted as if he were thinking and then began to speak.

"It was long ago, the day that my garrison was taken to the edges of the sky and offered a place among the stars to make our mark."

He gestured expansively to the portion of sky that was above them. Dean lookd up with wonder, shifting back to rest comfortably on his elbows. Castiel continued.

"One by one, we were given the gift of a few stars each and instructed to place them as we would. Each of us built a constellation, making shapes in the image of things we found beautiful. We hung archers in the stars, and bears, serpents, star-crossed lovers. We scattered shapes and stories across the sky, filling the empty spaces with light. Our garrison was among the first ones to get their chance to fill the sky with a few handfuls of stars, and so we filled the spaces visible to the place that our father marked as important. Planet Earth. The lesser garrisons filled the faraway skies, until the universe teemed with light and life."

Dean looked up at Castiel in disbelief. The angel was literally responsible for a part of the universe. Dean felt tiny in comparison.

"And since we were a bit vain, when the humans learned to speak, we sent them whispers of the stories we wrote in the stars, until our work was known to the world. The stars became a place of myth and mystery and we were happy. Over time of course, the stories warped and twisted but many of them became even more beautiful so we saw no reason to interfere. Most of our stories feature the Greek gods because the Greeks were the last to alter the stories before they spread. Despite the changes in names, our stories were as immortal as the tongues of men."

There was a heavy pause that hung between them, Castiel lost in thought, Dean suddenly afraid of the magnificence of the creature beside him, impossibly old and powerful. Castiel gestured to the sky, pointing out a cluster of stars.

"That one there is Andromeda. That was Gabriel's favourite. He was the oldest of our garrison, one of the only angels I ever felt kinship with, at least before he disappeared. It holds the story of a woman who bragged of her daughters beauty in a way that angered the sea nymphs. The nymphs brought the wrath of Poseidon upon the woman's hometown, forcing her to sacrifice her prized daughter to save the city. Another god felt pity for the girl and put her in the stars forever."

Castiel paused and let out a rumbling laugh.

"Gabriel has always liked stories where people's sins were punished in an appropriate way, and I think he meant his story as a warning."

Castiel shifted, pointing to another cluster of stars.

"And that one is Cygnus. Anna made that constellation. She was the angel closest in age with me, although I do not remember much about her. Her story was about a son of a Apollo who had taken his father's chariot and crashed into the sea, drowning. His friend Cygnus plunged into the waves after him and dove under again and again. Out of pity he was placed in the stars in the shape of a swan."

Castiel moves on to the next constellation.

"This one was always my most favourite aside from my own. An angel named Balthazar created it and its name is Pegasus. Pegasus was a mighty winged steed who assisted many warriors, including Perseus. The steed was said to have sprung from the sea. The story Balthazar wove had the steed returning to the stars after its rider was killed by Zeus."

Castiel paused for a moment before pointing to a constellation off to the right.

"And that is my constellation."

Dean examined it closely. It was hard to make out against the cave walls, but these stars were only representations of the real thing. Dean wondered if Castiel made his stars dimmer on purpose.

"The constellation's name is Aquarius. It is the story of a young man named Ganymede so radiant he captured the attention of the god Zeus. One day Zeus took the form of an eagle and seduced the man away, taking him to live on Olympus among the gods, to be his immortal lover."

Dean smiled a little.

"That's quite the story there Cas."

Castiel shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. Dean swears that if Castiel could, he would be blushing.

"Yes well, I thought it was a beautiful story at the time."

Dean smiles softly, nudging Castiel with his shoulder.

"Still is a beautiful story. Little sappy for my taste, but what can you do?"

Castiel looked fleetingly at Dean and then back up at the sky.

"Yes well, it was a popular story among the Greeks. They liked the idea of a mortal enrapturing a god. They were also quite big fans of love overcoming insurmountable obstacles. Also they were quite infatuated with homoeroticism at the time."

Dean laughed at that.

"Look at you, pandering to the masses."

Castiel's mouth twitched slightly upwards.

"Indeed."

They sat like that for some time, not needing any more words between them, just staring up at the stars. As the night wore on and the night became less dark, Dean found his breathing slowing until it was in time with the soft drifting of the light in Castiel's chest. By the time the sun had almost breached the horizon, Dean had slumped over slightly, eyes sliding closed. He leaned against Castiel's transparent side, unconsciously moving closer to the source of warmth out of habit. Castiel stiffened briefly, staying like that for many moments. He eventually relaxed, shifting Dean gently until he rested in a way that would be easy on his neck and spine. Castiel arranged his wings around them to block the wind and filter some of the light. He closed his eyes and hummed slightly, enjoying the feeling of _safe_ that clung to the peculiar human. The light in his chest grew slightly brighter, pulsing happily.

_Dean found himself back in his cabin, nestled in a pile of furs. There was an overwhelming warmth in the cabin, in part from the roaring fire and in part from the company he kept. The dark haired man was there beside him, pressed close along his side. His eyes glowed in the firelight, and the shadows cut sharp lines along his jaw and cheekbones. Dean's heart stuttered in his chest. The dark haired man was incredibly beautiful. Something familiar lingered behind his eyes and Dean was momentarily confused and reminded of something. It slipped like water through his hands and he found himself staring transfixed at how the shadows played on the other man's face. The other man turned to look at him and sent him a soft, fond smile. Dean blushed and tried to look away. The other man's hand shot out to catch his jaw, turning Dean's face back towards him. The dark haired man looked momentarily shocked at his own actions. Dean felt a flare of heat in his gut and an overwhelming desire to taste the other man's mouth. _

_ Dean surged forward, before he could doubt himself. It was a dream, he reasoned, just a dream, might as well enjoy it. The other man's eyes stayed wide and he stiffened when he felt the press of Dean's mouth against his. It was nothing ground breaking, just a simple press of lips, dry and chaste. Dean shifted his lips gently against the other man's, suddenly painfully aware that the other man had not moved. After another few seconds of no response, Dean pulled away, fear in his eyes. The other man just stared, briefly touching his lips with his left hand, a puzzled look in his eyes. He tilted his head to one side and Dean was immediately filled with a sense that he should __**know**__ something about this man. _

_ Before he could process his thoughts the other man had crowded into his space. He looked up at Dean through his impossibly long, dark eyelashes before cautiously pressing his mouth to Dean's in a tentative kiss. Dean smiled slightly, causing the other man to draw back and look at him curiously. Dean wasted no time in leaning forward through the small distance and re-initiating the kiss, guiding the other man's movement with his lips. Dean moved one hand up to the other mans neck, holding him gently in place, while he moved the other to the man's waist, pulling him gently closer. The other man went willingly, mirroring the posture. Dean gently touched his tongue to the seam of the other man's lips. The other man's mouth parted willingly, and he shifted closer to Dean, by now practically in his lap. _

_ Dean slowly explored the other man's mouth with his tongue, letting his hands wander across the other man's back. After a few moments of that, the dark haired man decided to retaliate, and with a wet slide of tongues, set about exploring Dean's mouth. Dean let out an involuntary sigh, allowing his kisses to become slightly more insistent. The other man was a quick learner, pushing when Dean pulled, giving as good as he got and more. Eventually Dean needed to breathe and he pulled away from the other man, resting their foreheads together. Dean locked eyes with the other man and again, the spark of familiarity raced up his spine. The other man's eyes widened slightly in what looked like concern. _

Dean woke up hard and bordering on uncomfortably warm. He was pressed against Castiel and he immediately blushed and moved away. Castiel was unmoving beside him, focused on a spot long off in the distance. At his movement, Castiel turned to him. Dean tried to subtly shift so that his arousal was less obvious. He internally cursed the phenomenon of morning wood and gorgeous mystery strangers with mouths made for sinning. He plastered on a smile and looked up at Castiel.

"So Cas, what do you say you fire up a little breakfast and we go for a swim. I've been dying to check out that waterfall for a while now."


	17. Waterlogged

**a/n: Sorry this took so long. I for some stupid reason had writers block (even though I have this thing planned to the end?) and was having trouble with this chapter. Gah. Oh well. Here you go. More to come soon. **

The sun was high in the sky by the time Dean and Castiel arrived at the waterfall. The water was clear and glittering, refracting dancing light all over the stones that lined the river. The air was still and warm, and Dean could hardly keep the smile off of his face. He was rested and comfortably full, letting the sun warm him from the outside in. He caught Castiel's attention and his grin slipped slightly from his face, his features relaxing into something softer. He examined the angel carefully. The spark in the angel's chest was definitely brighter than it had been when Dean arrived and Dean thought that it might have shifted, now radiating from all of the angel's chest instead of the solitary ball it had once been. Castiel's eyes, previously dark, empty spaces would occasionally dance with light and more than once Dean had found himself under the scrutiny of Castiel's animal faces. Castiel's wings also seemed more at ease, no longer needing reminders to lay flat and easy against his back. Dean did not know when the changes had happened, but if he tried he could easily pick out all the changes in the mysterious creature before him.

Dean, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were heading, made a quick move towards the water. He stood at the edge of the rushing water and peered down over the cliff. He judged that the distance would be safe to jump assuming that the water was as deep as it looked. But having Castiel with him made him reckless and before he could think too hard, he started stripping his clothes off. The sun warmed his skin, pale from being covered so long, showing off the constellations of freckles that were dusted across his shoulders. Dean folded his clothes into a neat pile, placing his bundle far enough from the river to keep dry. He was unashamed at his nakedness and perfectly comfortable with his, frankly impressive if he was being honest, body. He stretched and laughed at the feeling of the wind tickling down his limbs and caressing his torso.

Dean turned to look at Castiel, still in the place Dean had left him, half shaded by the trees at the edge of the river. Castiel looked, for lack of a better word, embarrassed. He somehow had managed to hide all his eyes and curl in on himself. Even his wings were agitated, tinkling wildly as they twitched behind his back. Dean smirked.

"What's wrong Cas? Never seen a naked guy before?"

Castiel flinched slightly, attempting to look anywhere but at Dean.

"I have never been this close to a human in their natural state before. It is - "

Castiel paused for a moment, searching for the right word.

"- distracting.

Dean unconsciously puffed himself up, drawing his back straighter and squaring his shoulders. He smiled a knowing smile.

"You think I'm distracting?"

Castiel turned finally to look at him, tension visible in every line of his body, wings rigid and half up in self defense.

"I think your kind has an affinity for clothing for a reason"

Dean laughed loudly. He turned towards the river, surveying the land and hauling in a deep breath. He let a smile drift across his face, feeling strangely at ease. Castiel watched him quietly from the shade, allowing his gaze to travel over Dean's wide freckled back. With a beat of hesitation he allowed his eyes to travel lower. He followed the lines of Dean's body over his ass and down the solid legs. Castiel's agitated tinkling drew Dean's attention back to the angel.

"Dude, you are totally checking me out."

Castiel's eyes dropped to the grass so fast that Dean would have missed the action if he had blinked. Castiel's wings shot forward, obscuring his faces and trying, unsuccessfully to shield himself with a transparent barrier. Dean let out a carefree laugh, his entire body shaking with mirth.

"Even angels can't resist my sweet ass. This is too good. Just friggin wait until I tell Sa-"

Dean choked off mid sentence, face suddenly serious. He turned his back to Castiel, shoulders tensed. Dean could feel his grief welling up, making his eyes burn and his throat tight. A ball of guilt tangled and expanded in his gut, pressing outwards in all directions. Dean thought he might throw up. He moved to the cliff edge, suddenly painfully aware of the tears threatening to spill and the angel's gaze. Castiel's wings slowly drifted away from his faces, retreating to their place at his back. Concern washed through him as he watched the suddenly sobered joy leech out of the young man in front of him. Castiel sat silent, looking for the words to say that would make everything better.

Dean grimaced, pushing the thoughts down and away, locking them safely in the depths of his brain. Some things were too painful to think about. He forced a smile onto his face, turning back to the unconvinced angel.

"So dude, you going to jump with me?"

Castiel looked at him, head tilted.

"I have wings. What use is jumping?"

Dean's smile edged slightly into genuine as he took in the confusion and lingering embarrassment that was betrayed by the set of Castiel's body.

"It's fun, come on."

Dean held his hand out to the angel, inviting him to come stand alongside him at the top of the falls. Castiel looked at him warily. Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his hand impatiently in Castiel's direction. The angel got to his feet, moving carefully to stand alongside Dean. When they were close enough to touch, Dean grabbed Castiel's absurdly large and warm hand in his own.

"On the count of three we jump."

He looked up to Castiel for some kind of affirmation. The angel merely inclined his head slightly, the confusion still evident. His hand twitched slightly in Dean's but neither of them made any move to dislodge the other.

"One. Two. THREE"

Dean and Castiel launched themselves off the edge of the falls. Dean's face was taken over by a joyful smile and Castiel let out a surprised rumble. They hit the water with a colossal splash, probably frightening all of the life in the cavern. They both surfaced, gleeful expressions painted across their faces. They locked eyes for a moment. They were both silent, caught in the energy that seemed to hang in between them until Dean broke the moment by diving down into the water. For the next few hours they dipped in and out of the water, initiating splash fights (which Castiel of course won), and investigating the river and falls until Dean was properly pruney and tired. Then they floated aimlessly for another hour, eyes closed, no words between them. The sun was low in the sky before they even thought of getting out.


	18. Stories of the Past

**a/n: Ah! Sorry I've taken so long, I've just been struggling with how I wanted to approach this next bit (aka I had the moment in my head and was having trouble getting it on paper...) anyways, here's part one of the emotional confessions. More to come as soon as I can get ahead of my summer course readings/papers and stuff. (...Or sooner if I'm feeling particularly procrastinate-y)**

Dean and Castiel watched the sun go down slowly from their vantage point on the shore. The setting sun painted the cavern in red and gold and refracted strange patterns through Castiel's limbs. They reclined side by side, allowing the warm breeze to dry their wet bodies and hair and slowly begin the thaw after the cold waters of the river. It was comfortable between them. Any lingering sadness about Sam was temporarily wiped clean by the memories of the previous afternoon and Castiel felt his heart buoyed up by the warmth that surrounded the peculiar human in his midst. An hour or so ago, Castiel had conjured dinner for Dean, a decadent meal of quail and vegetables. A half eaten pie lay in the grass beside Dean's nearly comatose body. In his left hand a bottle of wine lolled in the grass, empty all but for the dregs at the bottom. Dean's head was pleasantly warm and dulled and he watched the fireflies flit overhead.

"Pretty isn't it?"

Castiel turned his blank face to look at Dean, regarding him with curiosity.

"What is pretty?"

Dean snorted inelegantly, dissolving into a gentle laugh before falling silent. His half clothed body convulsed slightly in a shiver, noting that the wind had gotten cold with the setting of the sun.

"Well me for one, but I meant just this place. It's all just so... surreal."

Castiel sighed and shifted slightly closer, intending to offer his warmth in a subtle way to the hunter. Dean didn't shy away, just looked at Castiel, hundreds of questions and thoughts swimming just below his surface. Castiel adjusted his feathers, stretching his wings where they had cramped and the questions in Dean's eyes broke apart and faded away, leaving only an air of disbelief and wonder.

"What are you dude?"

Castiel sighed, the corners of his mouth tugging up in mockery of a true smile.

"I have told you many times. I am Castiel, angel of the Lord"

Dean huffed a laugh, collapsing back to look at the stars.

"No I know that, I guess I meant..."

Dean pauses for a moment, trying to string together the right words. Castiel waits patiently, watching Dean's expressions flit across his face in a silent monologue.

"I guess I meant, how exactly did all this happen?"

Dean gestured expansively to the cave, sweeping his arm out to spread the gesture across the sky and the fields and Castiel himself. Castiel turned his face slightly away, seeming to slump in on himself slightly.

"You wish to know why I was cast out of heaven."

It wasn't a question, the way Castiel framed it in his heavy ancient voice. It was a fact, immovable and solid as the cave walls. Dean felt immediately guilty.

"If it would make you feel better I can tell you how I was cast out of the village."

Castiel sighed.

"Your suffering does not bring me pleasure Dean."

Dean laughed, dark and tinged with a bitter regret.

"Yeah well sometimes the only thing that keeps humans going is knowing that other people hurt just the same as us."

Castiel sat up, facing the river, back to Dean. He allowed his wings to stretch, shifting as if to dislodge some phantom ache. His feathers tinkled lightly in the dark, catching the stars and the moon.

"Many years ago, more years than I am capable of recalling, god created the earth."

Dean looked at Castiel, brow scrunched in confusion.

"Uh dude, as much as I appreciate the history lesson what does this have to do with-"

Castiel cut off Deans question with a wave of his hand.

"As I said, God created the heavens and the earth and things were good. There was peace in heaven. Love was shared and easy. Things were uncomplicated."

Dean shifted closer to the angel, ducking beneath the arch of the slightly outstretched wing nearest to him to shield himself from the cold night air.

"But after many millennia, God grew tired of his creations, of his beasts of the wild, his beasts of burden and his creatures of the deep. He wanted more. "

Castiel wrapped his wing slightly more securely around Dean, seemingly escaping the notice of either of them.

"At this time, I was just a young Seraph, only a few centuries out of the hatchery. I had been assigned a mentor, an archangel, one of the most glorious, and the most terrifying . He had been assigned to teach me of the world and the cosmos and ready me to take my place as a warrior of heaven. He was always so kind to me, always ready to impart knowledge of the universe to me. I followed him everywhere he went like a dutiful younger brother. Angels are not ones to play favors but I knew that he held me in special regard, as God held him in special regard. For he was, after all, one of the first. One of the brightest. The morning star. "

Dean pulled away slightly to get a better look at Castiel's face. His zebra face stared sagely down while both the cat and the monkey slumbered softly. Castiel's blank face would not meet Dean's inquisitive stare.

"The morning star as in Lucifer? Like the Devil?"

Castiel hesitated a moment, his wings trembling.

"The very same. Although at the time he was merely an angel."

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. He scooted closer to Castiel, still under the wing, until he was pressed comfortably against the warm side of the angel.

"As I said earlier, God was in the process of making something entirely new. He had been reclusive as of late, working tirelessly on his new being. He wanted, I think, to create things that would rule the world and one day take their rightful places with the angels in heaven. They were to be his greatest masterpiece."

Dean let out a quiet breath, his word ghosting out of him.

"Humans?"

Castiel nodded his head in affirmation. Dean didn't need to look up to hear the grinding sound of Castiel's movement or the resulting vibration that shook the angel's body.

"Lucifer was intensely jealous. He thought that the angels were perfect and had every right to live in heaven alone. What need did our father have of new creations? And when he heard we were expected to bow to the humans, Lucifer became hostile and aggressive.

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Sounds like the Lucifer we all know of."

Castiel smiled slightly and continued.

"Indeed. He tried to create an uprising, tried to stir up a revolt to overthrow God and take back the universe from the new creatures. But the angels would not join him. They were too loyal to their absent father. Not long after this, God returned to celebrate his new creatures, the humans, with the host. Lucifer confronted God and they talked long into the next week, attempting to resolve the issue in a peaceful way. But Lucifer could not be swayed, so he was cast out."

Dean leaned his head against Cas, resting his body nearly completely against the angel.

"Into hell?"

Castiel drew his wings in close around himself and Dean. Somewhere overhead storm clouds brewed and let out an ominous rumble. Dean looked up briefly but was easily brought back to Castiel's story.

"Yes into hell. But it was not before his poisonous words and whisperings had taken root. "

Castiel paused, suddenly stiff beneath Dean's cheek. Dean let his hand drift reassuringly across Castiel's wing.

"You mean you."

Castiel let out a heavy, regretful sigh, his shoulders drooping with the weight of all the years spent alone, anchored by guilt.

"Yes."

Dean shifted away from the angel, still moving beneath the transparent canopy of Castiel's wings. He moved to straddle Castiel's knees so he could look up into the angel's face. Above them, the clouds crackled and roiled.

"You let him get to you and what? You threw down your halo and walked out?"

Castiel averted his eyes, wings shivering with emotion.

"Not exactly."

Dean shifted closer, pressing his hand against Castiel's torso and splaying his fingers. He pressed insistently until the angel titled his head down to meet Dean's eyes.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't your fault Cas."

Castiel growled low in his chest, startling Dean. He steeled himself and didn't move from his place in the angel's lap. A few droplets fell from the sky and Castiel adjusted his wings to shelter them both from the rain.

"You can't know that Dean."

Dean moved in closer until he was close enough that he could wrap his arms and legs around the angel's thin hips. He pressed his face against the angel's chest and held tight, doing what he did best.

"I know you Cas. The only way that you got wrapped up in bad shit was if some lowlife dragged you down into it. You're not the violent, hating kind. Trust me man, I've seen some of those in my time and you are not them."

The sky over them broke and streamed down in torrents. The water splashed off the clear wings and rolled down. Castiel wound his long arms around the tiny human, hesitantly returning the fierce embrace. Dean leaned heavy against the angel's chest, letting out a pained sigh.

"So I suppose it's about time for my sob story huh?"


	19. Sob Stories

The rain beat down on Cas' wings as he sat by the river with Dean. They were cocooned under his wings, warm and safe from the prevailing rain. Dean was pressed up against Cas' torso, seemingly unconcerned with his place on the angel's lap. The glowing in the angel's chest was bright and strong, illuminating the space created by the umbrella of the angel's wings. The pitter patter of rain filled up the space with white noise. Castiel allowed himself to take comfort in the solid weight of the hunter pressed against him. Dean shifted slightly and drew in a deep breath.

"I guess it all really started a few months after I was born."

His voice was just barely a whisper, but Castiel strained himself to listen, not willing to miss a word.

"When she was young, before she married my dad, my mom was ... stalked I guess is the best word for it, by some guy in her village. He used to follow her around town, trailing her home from the market and waiting for her in the woods by her house. I think in his mind he was courting her or something but it scared her."

Castiel drew his wings closer around Dean unconsciously.

"Anyways, he didn't like it when my dad and her got engaged. He got violent, leaving messages at my dad's house, threatening him in the pub, trying to fight him. And then he started threatening my mom and my dad had enough."

Dean's voice has gathered more strength, hatred for the man seeping into his words.

"Dad was like that, always incredibly protective of everyone, especially my mom. He loved her so much. So in the dead of night one night, he packed up a wagon and took my mom and fled for another village."

Dean pressed closer to Castiel, winding his limbs more securely around the angel's waist.

"It worked for a few years. The other guy hadn't managed to find them, so they lived pretty much in peace. I was born and everything was good. They had a new life in a new place with a house and no stalker."

Dean's mouth twisted into a grimace. Castiel flinched slightly.

"But then Sammy was born. And I guess somehow the other guy found them because on the night Sammy turned six months old the guy tried to burn down our cabin."

Castiel's heart clenched in his chest and he moved his hands to cradle the hunter against him, hands stroking down his back in an attempted imitation of the comfort Dean offered without thinking. Dean's voice was barely a croak, choked off with emotion.

"My mom died in the fire, but I got Sammy out and Dad managed to escape too."

A tear fell down Dean's cheek. Dean's face lifted into a strange mockery of a smile, twisted and bitter

"And then my dad lost it. He drank too much and became obsessed with finding the guy who killed my mom. I had to raise Sam pretty much on my own, because Dad was never around and when he was he was passed out drunk"

Dean pulled in a labored breath.

"And then he got himself killed in some _accident _on a hunt."

Castiel spoke, voice pitched like the thunder overhead.

"But it was not an accident?"

Dean laughed bitterly.

"No, it was no accident."

Castiel hummed in acknowledgement and nudged Dean to continue.

"So it was just Sammy and I, and for a while I tried to just raise him and forget about that _monster_ that killed my parents but..."

He paused, seemingly lost in the memory. Castiel glanced down at him, pressing his hands into Dean's back lightly in encouragement.

"But he came back."

Castiel's body tensed. Dean hid his face against the angel's body, shoulders bunching up defensively.

"I was in the woods one afternoon, hunting, and he approached me for directions."

Dean's voice was strong and sure.

"At first I didn't know who he was but... but he had these yellow eyes, ones I had heard so many drunken rants about."

He sighed.

"I don't even know if he knew who I was at the time. But once I knew who he was, I just had to do something. I couldn't let him just get away with killing my parents. "

Castiel hummed gently in agreement, vibrating against Dean's cheek.

"I killed him."

Castiel tightened his hold on the hunter and Dean returned the tightness of the embrace, barely space for air between them. Castiel's wings moved from an overarching dome to cut the space in half. The atmosphere was suddenly heavy and intimate. Dean took a few ragged breaths, tears sliding out almost unnoticed, running down the smooth planes of Castiel's torso.

"I wasn't quick about it either. No, I took my time, I made sure he felt everything. I wanted him to _suffer_. I had been hunting for years, I could have killed him quickly but I didn't _want to_."

Dean tried to pull away from Castiel, ashamed and feeling unworthy of the gentle assurance of safety and affection the angel was offering. Castiel merely held tighter, hands gentle enough to allow Dean space if he truly desired it but insistent enough for Dean to know that Castiel was not going anywhere.

"I took him apart, bit by bit, mind and body until finally, I let him die."

Dean leaned back slightly, looking up at Castiel's face for the first time in his story.

"I was standing there, over his corpse, knife in hand, bloody as all hell, when I heard the screaming."

Castiel cocked his head to the side, waiting patiently for the rest of the story. Dean shuddered, eyes glazed over with the memory.

"By the tree line, standing with a pail in her hand, was one of the young girls from the village."

The rain by now had taken on the properties of a torrential downpour, coming down in heavy streams and splashing to the ground. The thunder rumbled overhead. Dean flinched at the sound.

"She ran off into the woods, down the path towards the village before I could explain myself. I followed her, not even realizing what I looked like. When I reached the village there was a group of townspeople gathered in the square, drawn out of their houses by the screaming. And there I was, bloody and looking the part of a demon straight of hell."

Castiel sensed Dean's descent into memory and gently shook him, breaking his reverie. Dean started and then shook his head, eyes focusing. He placed his hands against Castiel's torso in front of him, hanging his head.

"They accused me of being a monster and banished me from the village."

Castiel's hands tightened minutely.

"Yes that is something I know well."

Dean huffed out a breath, chuckling slightly.

"Well they let me stay nearby as long as I never talked to anyone in the village, never came into town."

Dean shook his head.

"I think they only let me stay close by because they liked Sam so much and they didn't want him to die in the woods but they knew I'd never leave him."

Castiel shrugged his shoulders.

"Regardless of the reason, they did let you stay."

Dean's mouth twitched slightly on one side.

"Yeah well, they never trusted me again."

Dean allowed himself to rest up against Castiel again, drawing comfort from the angels warmth and presence. For a few moments there were silence. The rain slowed until it was just a soft pitter patter.

"So I guess we're both pretty messed up huh?"

Castiel laughed, rumbling deep in his chest. His wings tinkled slightly with his laughter.

"Yes. We are."

They sat like that for some time until the rain stopped completely. Castiel started to move his wings to rest against his back. Dean looked up at him sleepily, half on the verge of sleep, lulled there by the rain and warmth.

"No... Leave them."

Castiel looked down at the him in surprise, before arranging his wings to wrap securely around the human in his arms, cocooning Dean against him. Dean smiled softly up at him and hummed in contentment, moving back to rest his head against Castiel. Castiel surveyed the land around him, keeping watch over his cavern as the human was drawn downwards into sleep within the safety of his wings.


	20. Dean's Dream Guy

_Dean found himself back in his cabin. _

_The fire was crackling merrily in the hearth and the cabin was awash with a warm glow. Dean squinted his eyes in confusion trying to think about how he made it back to the cabin. He stared up at the ceiling, briefly lamenting the lack of stars. The roof melted away into nothing and suddenly he was staring at the night sky. Oh, he exhaled, a dream then. The furs beneath him were soft, too soft to be real, and he felt light and disembodied, floating in a cloud of warmth beneath the night sky. _

_He was brought back to earth by the heavy warmth across his chest, pressing down and anchoring him to the ground. He suddenly became aware of soft hair tickling his nose. He closed his eyes in a slow blink and opened them again. The man had not moved from where he was sprawled across Dean's chest. An arm was wrapped possessively around his waist, hand tucked under his side in a way that probably wasn't comfortable for the other man. Their legs tangled together under the blankets and Dean couldn't help but register the feeling as pleasant. _

_They probably made quite a picture, Dean thought. White, almost impossibly pale skin draped across sun kissed bronze, bodies entwined like lovers in the night. Dean smiled slightly, dragging in breath to release a contented sigh. The other man shifted closer, tightening his arm and nuzzling his face into Dean's chest. His facial hair dragged across Dean's skin trailing a slight burn in its wake. Dean's face flared hot at the realization of how naked they were. _

_Dean was no stranger to intimacy or men warming his bed, but the presence of this stranger draped over him like it was an everyday occurrence was new. The man was pressed against Dean from his head to his toes without care that they had never spoken, and that Dean had never learned his name. The dark haired man just lay there quietly, breathing even, perfectly comfortable to be held by Dean, trusting and vulnerable in sleep. Dean tucked his free hand under his head and wrapped his other arm more securely around the dark haired mans shoulder, crowding him even closer to Dean's body, until he was almost fully on top of Dean. _

_Dean looked to the sky, taking in the stars, easily picking out Castiel's constellation against the dark background of the cave. He felt a swoop of guilt in his stomach followed by a flood of confusion. He vaguely recalled the stories in the stars but they became fuzzy the more he tried to focus on them. He squeezed his eyes tight, suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of dizziness. What was he trying to remember? Something in him pushed against the confusion. He couldn't remember something. Something important. He didn't know how exactly he knew it, but Dean knew there was something important just outside his reach. Something that would change everything if he could just remember. _

_He was startled out of his thoughts by a sleepy grumble from the man cuddled against him. The man shifted, twisting to stretch his spine. He shuffled up until he could fold his arms to cushion his chin on Dean's chest. He looked at Dean and Dean looked back. His eyes were so damn __**blue**__. They laid like that, eyes locked for some length stretch of time, just sharing the silence. The man's blue eyes were piercing and they seemed to cut through to Dean's very core. Dean distantly registered that he should probably feel uncomfortable or laid bare or something, but all he could bring himself to feel was comfort and a heavy warmth. The dark haired man smiled shyly, eyes crinkling at the corners and Dean felt a surge of affection for him. He couldn't help but smile gently back at the unexpected show of emotion from the usually stonefaced man. _

_Something in the back of his mind was trying to claw its way forward to be recognized but it couldn't fight through the dream fog and into his conscious brain. The dark haired man's eyes briefly betrayed a hint of panic before he moved his hand slowly to Dean's face as if trying not to spook an injured animal. What was it? Dean struggled to get a hold of the thought and wrench it forward, brow wrinkling in concentration. The man laid the hand alongside his cheek, bringing Dean out of his thoughts. Dean turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on the other man's palm. The man's blue eyes seemed to actually glow and then - Dean knew that light damn it! The man, sensing the flair of recognition, pushed up from Dean's chest and moved to place a kiss on Dean's forehead. _

When the man's lips met skin, Dean came to in the clearing, still wrapped around Cas. There was a uneasy roiling in his gut and he struggled to be loose of the angel's clinging limbs, suddenly feeling guilty for the comfort that was offered. He didn't know why the angel's warm, glassy limbs suddenly felt wrong but he just knew that he had to be out of them. His mind was hazy with sleep and confusion lingering from his dream. He fought out of the angel's arms, Castiel just sitting there paralyzed with surprise. Dean got away from the angel's gentle embrace that had lasted through the night and darted for the woods, brushing off Castiel's concerned noises with the wave of a hand. He stopped at the edge of the clearing and looked back at Castiel, who was still sitting there, wings half raised in a hollow embrace, head tilted in confusion.

"Dean?"

His voice was gentle but pitched low and it made Dean feel even worse, stomach heaving emptily as he turned his back on the clearing and also the angel that he now considered a friend.


	21. I'm Alone

**A/N: Ugh I am so sorry. This update took forever and I don't even have a real reason for it. I kept getting side tracked by real life and family time and marathoning TV shows and reading and ugh I'm just sorry ok? Here have some Castiel flavoured angst because we haven't had that yet and y'all need to get in Cas' headspace and then next chapter Dean's headspace for this whole bonding and feels thing to make sense. So yeah. **

Castiel stood in the clearing, hand outstretched, his voice still echoing in the cavern as he watched Dean disappear into the woods. Castiel felt his grace snap in on itself, drawing away from his limbs and into a smaller ball in his chest. He felt so heavy. For so long he had been alone, safe in his solitude, he had not even dared to hope that one day he would find someone to help him break his banishment. He had thought that he would remain on earth until his grace burnt out like a dying star and he rusted into stone and became a part of the earth. But then Dean came into his life, soul burning like a lantern in the night, drawing Castiel in, pulling him through the dark he had allowed to creep upon him.

Castiel heaved a sigh. He had allowed the human closer than anything had ever gotten. He had housed the human within his grace, which would have been seen in heaven as an intimate act, but here seemed just a necessity. He had visited Dean within his dreams, originally thinking that if he could house Dean within his grace, surely he could visit Dean's soul as he slept. But what happened once as an experiment became too difficult to stop. It was addictive, being inside Dean's innermost thoughts, basking in him like he was a sun. Castiel couldn't explain it, he didn't have words for all of the things that he found but the force of the emotions that the human felt within him was intoxicating. It dragged Castiel in and held him under, drowning in the sensations and wonder of the world through another's eyes.

He had tried to be careful not to reveal himself, thinking it would be easier if Dean had no knowledge of Castiel. Dean was so guarded, and Castiel didn't think the human would take kindly to his blatant intrusion into the man's most intimate thoughts and feelings. And then, unexpectedly, Dean started to show him an easy affection that Castiel had never experienced before. A casual brush of hands, a lingering glance, the warmth of an embrace. A human set of comforts that made Castiel ache deep in his grace. He then found himself pulling away a half-second too late, once he had already seen a glimmer of recognition in Dean's soul. He couldn't help it. It was so much easier in the human's dreams. He could be everything Dean needed. He could be unthreatening and safe, a comfort for the human instead of a strange beast.

But last night he had pushed too much, lingered much too long. He had accidentally confused the human's soul, could see the thin threads of doubt and fear forming on the edges of Dean's brightness, dark against the almost blinding light of Dean. He had an infinite number chances to pull away before the damage was done but he _couldn't_. He had wanted to linger as long as he could, safe in the warmth of Dean's soul.

He felt a flair of injustice, an quick glare sent up to his father. He couldn't help but feel as if he was being tested. Like maybe Dean had been brought to Castiel on purpose, to teach him a lesson. Dean was a muddle of love and loyalty and bravery and everything that made humans good. He made Castiel yearn to be easier to look upon so perhaps the easy affection Dean showed him within dreams would translate into the waking world. For the first time he ached to be able to take a vessel, to stand in the skin of a man before Dean, to make him feel as safe and cared for as Dean had done just by instinct in the dreams. It was unfair that after all this time that Dean had found his way to him, gotten close enough to touch, only to be scared away by Castiel's mistakes.

Castiel rose to his feet. He circled around the clearing, a furious tinkling like wind-chimes in a rainstorm accompanying his movements. He growled low in his chest, letting his anger boil within him. He stalked to the tree line and grabbed one of the trees around the bottom, viciously ripping it from the earth. He let a half scream tear out of him as he threw it across the clearing. It landed with a crash, snapping another other tree clean in half. It felt good to let out his need for destruction. It had been millennia since he had upended anything from the earth and made something else hurt with him. Not since his banishment. He had always thought that displays of emotion were so human. Like they were a weakness and a plague to be avoided. But now, when he felt his last chance hanging on the precipice, it was all he could do to keep himself from tearing the entire forest apart and banishing Dean from his presence forever. He let out another scream, letting it tear through the forest and shake the earth. Distantly he sensed Dean but he angrily turned his consciousness away from the human. Some things demanded to be felt and Castiel had spent so much time in a human soul that his feelings rolled just below his surface.

He tore trees out of the forest until there was a large enough pile of lumber that Castiel started to feel the destruction and emptiness in his grace. He stopped, wings heaving with emotion. He _hurt_. He felt betrayed by his brother who had poisoned his thoughts, he felt abandoned by his father, he felt cold with the loss of Dean's presence, but most of all he felt empty.

Being on earth, being forced to take a corporeal form on earth was exhausting. He was weighed down, tethered to the earth by gravity, no longer a celestial being made up of light and energy. His fingers were numb and he was suddenly just so tired. After all this time, the millions of years, he just wanted to rest. He wanted to blink and have millennia pass him by, humans having lived and died a thousand generations while he slept. Every second on earth was an eternity. How did the humans do it? The living and dying measured by the sun. Lives counted by how many summers had passed them by. Such a long time for something so small. Small but bright, he realized. Like fireflies in a dark wood in the summer, pinpricks of light that last but a season. Still beautiful though.

He felt his anger wane and fade into a deep sadness. He wandered to the edge of the river and waded out into the middle of the water to where the stars shone the brightest. He had made this spot when he had built the cavern, where the water was cool and the air was warm and the stars seemed a bit clearer because it had given him hope. It had reminded him of his family and their stories and helped him think of a future, where he could break his banishment and join them again in heaven and be welcomed home, finally belonging. But tonight, with his wings wrapped around his body like a shield, shivering in the night air, the stars just made him feel alone.


	22. It Hurts Like a Sickness

Dean ran until his lungs burned in his chest and then kept running until his knees felt week and his feet throbbed. He collapsed to his knees, an exhale ripping out of his lungs as he fell to the forest floor. His thoughts raced in his head circling back constantly to Cas and his dreams, struggling to fit together the pieces he had while getting the distinct feeling that he was missing something huge. The more he thought about the dreams, the more his head started to ache. A lancing pain shot through his skull as he pushed more insistently at his memories. Blood pounded its way through his brain, creating an unbearable pressure behind his eyes.

He was forgetting something. He burned with recognition, but the answer still swam tauntingly just beyond his fingertips. The only thing he knew, was that he _knew _the man in his dreams. He felt bile burning its way up, tangling with the unknown word caught in his throat. The woods swam in front of him as he knelt among the trees. He let the contents of his stomach spill out of his mouth hoping to ease the outward pressing of all his external organs. A terrible cry tore through the woods, freezing his blood in his veins.

_Cas_.

The thought of Cas caused a fresh wave of pain to surge through Dean's head, pushing him farther into the forest floor. He panted through the pain, hands clutching at his head, clawing at his skin trying to do anything to alleviate the pain. The harder he tried to think about anything but the pain, the more insistent it was in his head. The sounds of wood splintering and earth shaking and the furious scraping of glass on glass filled the air. A shiver of primal fear lodged in his spine as he struggled _to get away, quickly, __**far away**_, from whatever was causing that sound. He scrabbled in the dirt, trying to drag his body through the dirt and away from the sounds of destruction. His leg caught in a tangle of roots and he collapsed into stillness with a groan. His sounds of pain echoed through the woods and Impala darted through the trees to him, slick as an oil spill in the moonlight. She crowded into his space and licked the tears from his cheeks. He choked on a sob, throat raw, as she curled up into his side. He shuddered at the sound of a faraway howl of rage before succumbing to the darkness with the taste of blood in his mouth.

Dean woke on the forest floor to the brightness of the sun. His head still ached dully but the insistent, crippling pain from last night was gone. A hazy mist still lingered around certain sections of his memories, but one section was untouched and vibrantly bright.

Sammy.

Dean was suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to see his brother. He needed to make sure Sam was alright. To make sure that Sam was safe and happy and capable of surviving on his own. He needed out of this cave.

All of a sudden it hit him. He was a prisoner here. He had nearly forgotten that, after all the time he and Cas had spent together. Usually he felt so safe and content that it was hard to recall that he was here against his will. It all came back to him in a wave. The anger and injustice about his imprisonment, and his fierce worry for Sam. Before he knew it he had hefted himself off the forest floor and started brushing the dirt off his clothes. He whistled for Impala before heading off in the direction of his cabin.

When he arrived in his cabin he started gathering supplies. He filled his bag with provisions, remains of his hunts, little things like water-skins he had made in his time in the forest. He pulled the laces of his boots tight and ensured that his knife was strapped to his waist. He also gathered up some of his makeshift weapons and tied them down to his bag and body, intending to be ready for a fight if Castiel decided not to let him leave. He was willing to be that he wouldn't have to actually fight the angel, but the woods were full of large predators that would probably function as guard dogs if Castiel willed it so.

With his things packed and every intention of leaving, he headed back to the clearing and the steps that led back to the surface. He passed the pack of wolves on his trek, waiting patiently in the shadows. They didn't move to attack him and he breathed out a sigh of relief. As he neared the clearing, he slowed, peeking through the trees to catch a glimpse of what to expect.

Castiel was sitting in the clearing, hunched over his knees, arms wrapped around himself. His wings lay in the dirt and his heads were bowed as if he was asleep, but his eyes were open. Dean sucked in a breath and moved away from the trees.

Castiel didn't move.

Dean walked, head held high, to the steps. His boots made a soft rustling sound in the grass, but other than that the cavern was silent and still. He reached the stairs without incident and hestitated momentarily before placing his foot on the lowest stair. When nothing happened and Castiel still hadn't moved, he moved to the next step, until he was climbing steadily.

He paused when he reached the top, the opening of the tunnel gaping open darkly in front of him. He turned and looked over his shoulder at Castiel, small from so high up. Castiel lifted his head to look at Dean, but stayed wrapped around himself in the clearing. Dean felt a pulse of sadness in his chest before pressing it downward and turning his back on the angel in the clearing.

He slid into the shadows of the tunnel and walked quickly towards the cave mouth. His footsteps echoed in the cool darkness, but there was no other sounds. He passed the underground creek and his footsteps sped. He was getting close.

When he reached the mouth of the cave, just a step from the invisible barrier, he paused, suddenly unsure. A low keening sound started from within the cave, filling the silence up with sadness. Dean felt the pressure in the back of his throat from the tears threatening to spill. He felt a heavy stone of guilt settle in his gut. He closed his eyes against the feeling before taking a shaky breath and stepping out of the cave and into the light.


	23. Missing Pieces

Dean stood in the woods behind the cabin that he grew up in and watched the smoke wind up against the sky. The windows glowed warmly, flickering gently with the fire in the hearth. He had been there since nightfall, just standing at the tree line. As he looked at the cabin on the little hill above town he realized that he didn't know how long he had been gone. His existence in the cave, as he thought back on it, seemed increasingly dreamlike and hazy. Had he been gone an hour? A day? A year? Ten? He had come this far and suddenly he was paralyzed with fear. What if something had happened to Sammy? Or worse, what if Sam was perfectly fine without Dean and had all but forgotten him? Dean's heart beat loudly in his chest and he wound his fingers more firmly into Impalas fur, keeping her from bounding happily towards home. She barked once, up at Dean, and he heard an answering volley of excited barking from within the cabin. The orange-y light from the windows was blocked out by the silhouette of a young man, hair just this side of wild. Dean knew that Sam could probably barely make him out, a dark smudge against the trees. Charger's head appeared beside Sam's still barking loudly at the trees. Impala darted towards the house and Dean sighed before following at a more sedate pace. It was time to for him to face his fears.

Sam saw him and made a sound of excitement and surprise before tearing himself away from the window. Dean heard the scuffle from in the cabin and a few seconds later Sam came flying out the door of the cabin and was suddenly attached to Dean like a barnacle. Dean felt the knot of worry in his chest start to unwind as he wrapped his arms around his brother and held tight. Dean registered that Sam was saying words but they were so choked and hurried that he couldn't pick the words apart enough to understand what Sam was saying. He untangled himself from his brother and held Sam at arms length to get a better look at him.

"Damn Sammy, you got even taller!"

Sam laughed. He pulled Dean back into a hug, face still slack with shock.

"Dean"

He spoke like he thought he was dreaming and that speaking too loudly would cause the illusion to break. Dean patted his back and Sam finally broke away with a giant smile.

"You're back. You're actually back! I thought I'd never see you again!"

Dean laughed and headed towards the still open door of the little house.

"Oh come on Sammy, after all the things that have tried to kill me, I'm not even sure I can die."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Well yeah Dean but you've been gone almost two years. I'd pretty much given up hope you were coming back."

Dean's eyes widened and he paused on the threshold of the house, holding the doorframe for support. Two years. He dragged in a ragged breath and tried to wrap his head around that information. It would make sense, the season being the same as when he left the first time, time passing in a dreamlike ebb and flow in the cavern. But to just lose two years in what felt like the span of weeks?

"Two years?"

Dean's voice came out with a croak and his dry throat made his eyes water. Sam just looked at him, brows furrowed.

"Yeah, I mean how long did it seem like you were gone for?"

Dean moved into the kitchen and slid down into one of the chairs at the table. He huffed out a breath and dropped his head into his hands.

"Jesus Sam, I don't know. Two months? Maybe three or four at most."

Sam's eyes widened in alarm and he turned his back to his brother, bustling towards the hearth and doling him out some of the stew that was bubbling away. He gently sat the bowl on the table in front of Dean, pushing it towards him slightly when Dean didn't move to grab it. Dean groaned loudly and lifted his head from the table.

"So I missed two years of your life? You're 19 now? Jesus Sam, stop getting older would you?"

Sam laughed. Dean picked up his bowl and started shoveling stew into his mouth, eyes glued to Sam's face, as if trying to figure out where he had changed and where he had stayed the same.

"Ok Dean, I'll stop getting older. And taller too if it makes you feel better."

Dean hummed in agreement through his mouthful of food. A rustling sound came from the direciton of the bedroom and Dean's head whipped around the room, registering the two dogs curled up together in front of the fire and Sam across the table from him. His eyes swung to the doorway leading out of the main part of the cabin.

"Sam?"

A sleepy, feminine voice drifted out into the kitchen.

"Go back to sleep Sarah, I'll be back in a bit."

A sleepy mumble of assent came from the back room. Dean whipped his head around to look at Sam. Dean raised a brow and smirked at his brother who had blushed and was refusing to meet Dean's eyes.

"Sam you _dog_! That's my boy."

Sam glared at Dean.

"You told me to find myself a girl and get married Dean."

Dean's eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"You're married?"

Sam smiled a small smile and looked at the table.

"Not quite yet but I asked and she said yes, so it's only a matter of time."

Dean's smile softened as he took in the besotted look on his brother's face.

"You were the first person I wanted to tell you know. I think you'd really like her."

Dean reached over to clap his brother on the shoulder.

"Jokes aside, I'm proud of you Sammy. You've really grown up."

Sam smiled sadly at him.

"I've missed you Dean."

Dean smiled at his brother, eyes crinkling happily.

"I missed you too Kiddo. Now go back to your hot wife before I start to wonder if we really are brothers after all."

Sam blushed and moved towards the bedroom. At the doorway he paused and looked back to his brother.

"You'll still be here in the morning?"

Dean laughed and shrugged.

"Far as I know Sammy boy."

Sam nodded once and moved into the bedroom, his feet making soft sounds on the wood floor. Dean got up, dropping the bowl in the bucket by the window and moved lay by the hearth with the dogs. He laid staring up at the ceiling, slowing his breath. Being home with Sam eased some of the worry in his guy but he could still feel the ache of missing someone deep in his bones. His last thought before falling asleep was on whether or not trading missing Sam for missing Cas was much of an improvement after all.


	24. Pieces Fall into Place

_Dean was in a clearing that seemed familiar, but it was hazy around the edges and filled with fog. He looked around, chasing the blurs around the outside of his vision, but never catching the source of the disruption. He moved forwards, but it felt slow and difficult, like dragging himself through a knee deep mud. He struggled for a few steps before stopping his forward movement. He swayed on his feet. He looked down but the grass was ordinary, short and dry, and his bare feet were pressed to firm ground. _

_Dean looked around, scanning the clearing for familiar markings or rock formations, anything to give him a more concrete idea of where he was. The trees loomed above him, dark and impossibly tall. They leaned in towards each other on all sides, nearly seeming to meet at the top. The sliver of sky visible through the treetops was hazy with clouds. The moon cast a glowing light through the clouds but stars were blotted out. The darkness and sense of __**wrongness**__ made Dean wary. He couldn't remember ever feeling so lonely in the woods, usually feeling at home in the vast wilderness. He caught movement flickering in the corner of his eye, and he spun around in a slow circle, scanning the area for whatever was there in the clearing with him. _

_The trees seemed to have closed in, edging towards him. The fog was thicker than it had been and the moons light was almost nonexistent. The only light came from a hunched over shape in the grass, one that Dean had originally thought was a rock formation. The light was thin and shifting, barely enough to illuminate a meter or two in every direction. Dean moved towards the shape, steps becoming harder to take as he got closer and closer, feet being held to the earth as if shackled. He used his arms to claw at the air, not really gaining any purchase but it made him feel as if he was getting somewhere at least. It was slow going, crossing the clearing taking an eternity. Dean knew he should feel tired, but every step he took left him feeling the same as he did before he took it. It was a struggle as he moved, but when he stopped, the resistance stopped pushing against him. _

_As he got closer, he could make the shape out better through the fog. It was the dark haired man, collapsed in a messy heap. The glowing light surrounded him pulsing weakly and seeming to withdraw even more with Dean's approach until it was barely even visible. Dean stopped moving, breath caught in his throat. The man looked so vulnerable and smaller somehow than he was before, although physically the same. He looked raggedy and tired, dark circles ringing his eyes, body made up of tense lines, even in unconsciousness. Dean squinted and looked carefully at the man. It seemed as though he was almost transparent around the edges, body not as solid looking as it should be. _

_He shifted as if to take another step closer and the man's shape flickered. _

_Dean drew in a sharp breath. _

_For a split second the man disappeared. Dean quickly shifted his weight onto his back foot and the man reappeared, the same as he had been a second ago. Dean blinked hard and shifted onto his front foot again. _

_The man flickered out of existence. _

_Dean repeated this a few times, the man disappearing as he tried to get closer. On the fourth try, Dean noticed that as the man disappeared, the fog seemed to recede from the spot, nearly invisible lines solidifying into an indistinct shape in his place. Dean shifted onto his back foot and then again onto his front foot, this time not withdrawing quickly, but pausing to study the effect of the man's disappearance. It was faint, but it was there, outlined against the fog:_

_A pair of wings emerging from a glasslike heap of tangled limbs. _

_Startled, Dean leapt backwards and the dark haired man was back, laying in a pile in the damp grass. A strangled sound emerged from his throat and the man stirred. One eye blinked open, staring up at him with disbelief. The eye was familiar and impossibly blue, the eyes of the man from his dream. He rocked forwards onto his front foot one last time and there it was, the reason why the blue was so familiar. _

_The same blue bled out as light from the chest of the heap of angel lying in the grass. Dean staggered back a few steps, mind reeling. The man lifted his head out of the grass and stretched out an arm in Dean's direction. The act seemed to take an immense amount of effort, and the light in the clearing seemed to momentarily reach out towards Dean in delicate tendrils. The man's mouth opened and a voice like the grating of stones croaked through the clearing, pain heavy in the single syllable. _

_"Dean"_

_Dean turned and ran from the clearing, hearing the same mournful keening from the cave echoing after him. Behind him the light slowly dimmed and retreated until it was just a single spark burning in Castiel's chest. Dean kept running. _


	25. Good Talk

Dean woke with Castiel's name lodged in his throat, sitting bolt upright on the floor only to lean over the blankets he was tangled in and spill his guts all over the floor. Bile burned its way up his throat and out his nose and he thought for a minute that he might drown in the smell of burnt air after a storm mixed with sick. He opened his eyes, not sure exactly when he had closed them and saw Sam out of the corner of his eye, hovering and wringing his hands, trying to decide on a course of action. Dean looked up at him, eyes filled with unshed tears, a burning pressure in his skull. He coughed a few times and spit the remaining vomit onto the floor. A pretty, dark haired girl approached with a bucket, moving to clean the floor while Dean collected himself. Sam's face was pinched with worry and he crossed his arms across his chest, looking down on Dean with suspicion.

"What's all that about?"

He gestured at the puddle on the floor. Dean flushed and looked away, focusing on the rough pattern of the rug he laid on. Impala licked his face once before he gently nudged her away.

"Nothing Sammy. Just a dream."

Sam frowned at him, reaching out a hand to help Dean off the floor. Dean flinched away from the hand and moved to stand on his own. Sam narrowed his eyes.

"You just flinched away from me. Why?"

Dean avoided the accusation and averted his eyes, quietly watching Sarah kneeling on the floor meticulously cleaning his mess. He felt guilt mingle with the lingering sickness in his stomach and he felt even worse.

"It was a bad dream Sam. Leave it."

Sam smoothed out his features and lowered his voice to a soothing, gentle tone, moving closer to his older brother.

"Is this about that monster? The one in the cave?"

Dean flinched as if struck. His face screwed up for a brief second before he schooled his features into a blank mask. His arms twitched as if he ached to wrap them around his own shoulders in defense. Sam watched his every move, trying to piece together his brother's strange behavior.

"Did he... did he _hurt_ you?"

Dean snapped his head up, anger filling his eyes as he finally looked at his brother. He drew himself up to his full height, hands subtly shaking before he tucked them into pockets. His voice came out shaky, despite the truth behind the words.

"Jesus Sam. No, he... Cas wouldn't... It's not like that okay?"

Sam tilted his head slightly, mirroring the movement Cas made when Dean did something puzzling and Dean felt a twinge in his chest at the familiar action. He shook himself slightly as if trying to dislodge the memory. His head throbbed.

"Cas?"

Sam's face was pinched, holding back the barrage of questions he no doubt had and it made Dean hesitate, hands balling up into fists in his pockets before releasing. He set his mouth in a straight line and walked to the table in the centre of the kitchen. He slid into the chair, back ramrod straight, as though slouching over would cause him to break apart. He set his hands flat on the table and drew in a deep breath. Sam slid in across from him, gently laying a hand over Dean's on the table. Dean didn't withdraw but his arm twitched slightly as if keeping his hand still was the last thing he wanted. Sarah moved outside, giving them some privacy with the thin guise of cleaning out the bucket and rag she had used on the floor. Dean could hear her puttering outside, the scrape of the well pump loud in the silence of the cabin.

"She seems nice."

Sam smiled slightly at his brother's attempts to redirect conversation.

"She is."

Dean lowered his eyes to the table, tracing the grain of the wood.

"And you're happy?"

Sam got up from the table and poured two cups of water from a battered looking jug on the counter. He hid a happy grin from Dean with his turned back.

"Yeah Dean, I'm happy."

Dean examined the set of Sam's shoulders, wider than he remembered, a boy growing into a man's body, limbs still a bit too long for his frame, but filling in. One corner of Dean's mouth twisted up with a defeated sort of look, a melancholy nostalgia for the time he had never experienced filling him before draining out of him as quick as it came. He fixed his features into a blank mask as Sam settled in front of him. Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to form a sentence that he hadn't quite figured out yet. Dean held up a silencing hand.

"If you're going to apologize, don't."

Sam shook his head and smiled, just a tiny amused twitch of lips.

"I forgot you did that. The mind reading thing."

Dean huffed.

"For the last time Sammy it isn't mind reading if it's written all over your face."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"We can't all have a flawless poker face Dean."

Dean huffed out a half laugh, the sound getting caught and mangled on its way out, but the sentiment was there. Sam allowed himself a small smile, letting the happiness at having his brother, for however long he was home, fill him up.

"Dean, what's going on? I haven't seen you like this since... shit, since Dad died."

Dean pulled the cup of water closer to him, twining his finger tightly around the rough wood of the cup and bringing it in front of him like a shield.

"I just... Cas, Castiel... I think he's in trouble."

Sam's bows drew together.

"Castiel is the thing in the cave?"

Dean nodded, a movement that would have been missed if Sam hadn't been watching him so intently.

"Angel"

Dean cleared his throat and tried again.

"He's an angel."

Sam leaned back in surprise.

"Like a feathered, halo wearing, god's soldier? Like a real angel?"

Dean nodded, still not meeting his brother's eyes. Sam drew in a deep breath through his teeth in surprise.

"So what's he doing in a cave in the woods?"

Dean looked up at Sam briefly before letting his eyes fall back to the table.

"Kind of a long story, but basically he's cursed."

Sam leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, eyes narrowing slightly at Dean.

"So he's evil?"

Dean met Sam's eyes.

"_No._"

The word was out of Dean's mouth before he even knew he had spoken. He cleared his throat and shifted from side to side slightly.

"I mean, no, he's not. He's … misunderstood"

Sam smiled a little but kept his comments to himself, waiting for Dean to continue. Dean loosened his grip on his cup, rolling it slightly between his hands.

"He uh, let me hunt and we talked about stuff and, I don't know... he's just misunderstood. We just ... He understood my shit and I understood his and he gave me space and it was just... you know..."

Sam's face had softened during Dean's rant. He glanced briefly out the window and saw Sarah puttering around in the vegetable garden and he smiled at the way the light hit her hair. He dragged his eyes back inside and settled on his brother. Dean still looked edgy and slightly green.

"You care about him."

Dean's eyes went wide and he met Sam's probing look with a startled expression.

"What?"

His voice came out strangled. Sam laughed a little at the sound and Dean glared.

"Come on Dean, you haven't said three words about another living thing other than your damn dog since I can remember. Whatever it was you had with Castiel seems like it was a good thing for you. Hell I haven't seen you as relaxed as you were when you came home last night since we moved out of town all those years ago"

Dean smiled a tiny, sad smile, mouth dragging up at the corners.

"Yeah I mean, it was peaceful in the cave. Easy almost. Nothing to worry about… Well, nothing to worry about except my little bitch brother anyways."

Sam laughed loudly, throwing his head back, happy that Dean was feeling well enough to joke.

"Hey! I will have you know that I have done pretty damn well for myself."

Dean looked around at the cabin and catalogued the signs of life. New dishes were piled on the counter, there were more furs on the chairs, and Dean was even willing to bet that Sam had built a new bed. He smiled.

"Yeah it looks like you have."

Sam looked around proudly at the praise from his older brother. His eyes found the half-finished knitting in the basket near the hearth and the touches that were very obviously Sarah's doing and he felt his heart warm. Dean watched him carefully, taking in the happy glow in Sam's eyes with a wistful sadness and a pang of longing in his heart for, well for something missing. Thinking too hard on the topic of things he was missing made his chest ache like his ribs were being pried apart so he tried to avoid it. A heavy silence fell on the cabin and Dean fidgeted with a loose thread on his shirt.

"I think he's dying"

Sam's head snapped around, bringing him out of his happy reminiscing.

"Castiel?"

Dean nodded slowly.

"I've been having these dreams about a man."

Sam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Dean. Dean blushed a little and looked down, shaking his head.

"Not like that you perv."

Sam rolled his eyes and made a sound of disbelief. Dean smirked a little.

"Ok so maybe it was a little like that."

Sam laughed and motioned for Dean to continue.

"I don't know Sam, they always just felt like more than dreams. The guy was always so intense, but he never talked to me, never approached me, didn't even interact until I engaged him first."

Dean took a deep breath and kept talking.

"And there was something about him. He was so _familiar_. He looked at me like he knew me, and every time I woke up I had this feeling like I knew him but his name was just out of my reach."

Sam's brow creased. Dean took a sip of water and breathed out a heavy exhale.

"And then I started getting these headaches when I tried to think too hard about him. But the weirdest part was how lucid the dreams were. I could control everything, I knew I was dreaming, and I still felt so at ease with the guy."

Sam tilted his head to the side and his eyes narrowed.

"Does this have to do with last night's dream?"

Dean waved him off impatiently.

"I'm getting there Sam, Jesus."

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Patience of a squirrel I swear. Anyways, yeah so last night, I dreamt of the guy again."

Sam waited, hands folded on the table primly.

"It was the dream that actually felt the most like a dream. It was foggy and dark and he was glowing a little bit, and whenever I got too close he would kind of just, disappear."

Dean's face scrunched with confusion as if he was trying to figure it out as he talked.

"And then I noticed that when he disappeared, something else was taking his place."

Sam raised one eyebrow but stayed silent.

"When he disappeared, it seemed like… like Castiel's body appeared instead. And then the glowing suddenly made sense."

Sam leaned forward a bit in his seat, starting to put the pieces together in his head.

"I think the guy in my dreams was actually Cas all along and that's why he seemed so familiar."

Sam waited, sensing Dean wasn't quite done. Dean slumped forward, elbows resting on the table. His voice came out like a croak, eyes suddenly stinging

"The guy looked like he was dying Sam. Cas looked like he was dying."

Sam's face softened into a look of sadness and compassion.

"Dean."

Dean looked at Sam, eyes vulnerable and so _young_ seeming. He looked like he was waiting for instructions.

"Why are you still sitting here?"

Dean looked at Sam questioningly.

"Dean, I love you, and you're my brother, but you are an idiot sometimes."

Dean started to open his mouth to defend himself and Sam held up a silencing hand.

"You are sitting here telling me all about some guy, one who you happen to be in love with by the way, telling me all about how you think he's dying, and not doing anything about it."

Dean gaped at Sam.

"Love?"

Sam rolled his eyes and looked at Dean, waiting for him to work through his ideas.

"Oh my god…. Sam."

Dean stood up abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor. His face was slack with surprise.

"I love him. Oh my god, Sam! I love Cas."

Sam just shook his head and gestured to the door.

"So what are you waiting for?"

Dean stalked to the door, circling back to grab his coat and pausing at the threshold.

"I'll be back Sam. Somehow I'll be back. But right now, Cas needs me."

Sam smiled, getting up to hug his brother goodbye. Their embrace was short but tight.

"You're the best Sammy."

Sam laughed and pushed Dean out the door of the cabin.

"Yeah I know, now go get your man."

Dean laughed before turning and running into the woods with a backwards smile. Impala followed close on his heels.


	26. Finding Cas

Dean's feet skidded on the wet stone of the cave as he barreled down the path leading to the cavern. The tunnel was dark, and his heart clenched in his chest in panic, hoping desperately that he wouldn't be too late. He focused on all the warmth and affection he felt for Cas and let it bleed together with the physical attraction and comfort he shared with the man from his dreams. He consciously pulled the thoughts to the front of his mind, hoping that somehow Castiel would be able to sense them and hold on a little longer. Dean wasn't sure exactly how the bond between them worked, but he was desperate, willing to try anything to keep Castiel alive.

His breath was loud in the tunnel, coming out in panting gasps, having run all the way from his cabin to the cave. The tunnel floor started its downward descent and Dean was forced to slow, the darkness hindering his progress. He tried to mentally map out the length of the journey, hoping he would notice the edge of overhang of the cavern before he pitched off it headfirst. He picked his way through the darkness, following the trickling sound of the underground stream.

He reached the mouth of the cavern and breathed in the familiar smell of burnt air and exotic plants that somehow became as comfortable as home. The stars were weakly twinkling overhead and the air was almost unnaturally still in the cave after getting used to the feeling of the constant breeze that was usually present. Dean's breath caught in his chest and he ached, a desperate hope twining heavy through his ribcage, as if threatening to break him apart. His throat burned and his vision became hazy with unshed tears as he picked down the stairs. The cavern was dark and seemed much smaller than it had before, the night heavy and oppressive instead of twinkling and magical as he knew it could be. There was no birdsong in the trees and even the rushing of the waterfall was muted, the darkness pressing in and clinging to his throat like a wet blanket. Dean couldn't breathe, panic filling him.

His feet found the ground and his knees almost gave out from under him. He paused a second, dried out grass rasping around his legs as he moved. He drew in a shaky breath and broke into a run, feet loud against the hard dirt, pounding out the offbeats of his heart's rhythm. He moved through the meadow like a blind man coming home, finally in intimately familiar territory that he could navigate using only the tugging in his chest. His breath burned its way out of him and he was distantly aware of a low chanting of desperate syllables tumbling off his tongue. Jumbled prayers of please, no and Cas, Cas, Cas, bleeding together with their echoes into a bitter hymn.

He was close to the clearing, not far now. He pushed himself to go faster, legs long gone numb. He passed the tree line and launched himself across the clearing. Castiel laid in the grass, his clear body so, so still. His wings were sprawled out against the grass and he was laying there, hands pointed skyward in surrendered prayer. He lay on his back, the grass already seeming to grow up to meet him. His eyes were closed and Dean fell to his knees beside Castiel. He reached out a shaking hand and laid it on the angel's side. Castiel's body was cool to the touch, like real glass under his hands, so unlike the soft warmth that the angel had once been. The angel's body was dark, all signs of his brilliant light extinguished. Dean let out a ragged sob, reaching out for Castiel, trying to shake him awake.

"Cas, come on Cas, don't be dead. You can't be dead. Come on Cas you son of a bitch, move!"

Dean beat his fists against Castiel's unmoving chest, sobs tearing their way out of Dean, his voice thick with tears.

"Damn it Cas! Come on! Don't do this to me man. I need you. I need you to not be dead Cas. Come on Cas."

Dean's voice broke on the angel's name coming out strangled. He slumped on top of Castiel, wrapping his limbs as much as he could around the angel's still body.

"Please"

His voice was just a whisper, barely audible through his tears.

"Please Cas."

He lifted his head towards the ceiling of the cavern and let out an animalistic scream of pain. He yelled his throat raw, until he could taste blood in his mouth, cursing God and then he fell on Castiel, nothing left in him but tears. He lay on Castiel's cool chest, sobbing, memorizing the feel of the angel under him, searing it into his memory.

"Damn it Cas. I love you, you son of a bitch. I fucking love you so much."

He pressed his cheek against Castiel's body, eyes squeezed tight, trying in vain to stop the flow of tears. He tried to even out his breath but it still came in great gasps. Beneath his cheek, a lone spark started to pulse. Dean's face screwed up even tighter as a fresh wave of tears poured out of him. The spark glowed a little bit brighter and started to spread through Castiel's chest, building and spreading. It was still dim but it was getting brighter with every beat of Dean's heart, pressed tight to the angel. Castiel's eyes blinked open, the vibrant blue bright in the darkness. Dean's breathing slowed slightly, starting to wrestle his feelings under control. A deep voice, like the grating of stones filled the cavern:

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes snapped open and he hurriedly pushed his torso up and off the angel until he was looking down at the glowing chest under him. He laid his hand on the light and watched it flare under his palm. He traced his fingers across the angel's chest and watched the light dance after his fingers. HE looked up at Castiel, meeting his eyes for the first time and a gasp punched its way out of his chest. He let out a happy sob, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Damn it Cas! Don't ever do that to me again you son of a bitch, I thought I lost you!"

Dean rained punches down on Castiel's body, fists glancing harmlessly off the smooth surface that was starting to warm up. Castiel moved up a slow hand to wrap around Dean, gently stilling his violent motions and bringing him tight into an embrace. Dean let out a happy sound and Castiel rumbled in return, before jerking suddenly. His grace rapidly receeded and Dean placed a panicked hand against Castiel's chest.

"Cas what's happening? Cas, talk to me! What's going on?"

Castiel shook his head, grace suddenly coursing through his body, almost blindingly bright.

"Dean I need you to step back and close your eyes."

His voice held a note of urgency but Dean just crossed his arms and stayed in his place astride Castiel.

"No way, not again. Not after last time."

Castiel used his giant hands to try to dislodge Dean, slight panic filling his eyes, and his wings starting to vibrate with a high pitched tinkling.

"Dean, please. This is important. Go to the trees and close your eyes."

Dean hesitated before listening to the command, scrabbling off the angel and into the tree line. When Dean was safely there he turned his back and shielded his eyes against the now almost blinding light of the angel.

"Are your eyes closed? Dean are they closed?"

The angel's voice was panicked and Dean felt a wave of confusion. He tamped it down, choosing to trust Castiel, finding his voice enough to croak out a rough:

"Yeah Cas, They're closed"

Castiel let out a pained groan before the sound of shattering glass could be heard coming from the direction of the clearing. Even behind his closed eyes the light was so bright, too bright. He felt it like a caress, warm and gentle across his face and he knew that he was safe. The light dimmed drastically and he knew it was safe to open his eyes again.

Dean rushed to the clearing pausing for just a moment to see the man from the dreams standing in a ring of broken glass, hair mussed and a look of pure amazement on his face. A huge smile broke across his face and looked to where Dean was in the trees. He opened his arms wide, tan trench coat hanging from his shoulders.

"Hello Dean."

Dean ran, laughing, across the clearing and launched himself at the man, whose arms wrapped around him and held him tight to a now human chest. It felt like coming home.

So this is the end of the road. You are getting a happytimes epilogue and then this story comes to an end... hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it... thanks for being awesome and reviewing me and showing me the love in a new fandom :)


	27. Epilogue

Dean and Castiel walked through the trees, hand in hand. Every so often Cas would stop, fascinated with something along the way, a bright outcropping of flowers, a hive of particularly busy bees, a furry little rabbit who had come out of his warren to investigate the strange presence passing through before ducking back inside after spotting Dean. Dean huffed and Castiel turned to smile at him, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. Dean felt his heart skip a beat and he felt warm at the idea that the angel still existed because of him, because of his love.

They stopped in a clearing, lying down in the grass and letting the sun warm them, birds singing in the trees. Clouds drifted overhead in the skies and Castiel beamed happily at nature, spellbound by everything they came across. He walked barefoot in the grass, letting the blades tickle his feet and the dirt squish between his toes. He flung his arms wide and turned in a circle, laughing happily while a few butterflies fluttered around his outstretched fingers. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled fondly. Cas caught the soft look and bounded over to Dean, launching into Dean's arms. Dean barely got his arms up in time to catch Cas but managed to spin him around happily, letting Cas' good mood infect him. He gently lowered Cas' feet to the ground and smiled, pulling the angel in for a kiss. Cas smiled against his lips, pulling back with a joyous laugh, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him through the woods. Dean stumbled after him for a few steps before shaking his head and bounding along beside him, keeping pace.

They wandered in the woods until the sun started to retreat behind the trees and the nocturnal animals started shaking themselves awake for the evening. Dean wrapped an arm securely around Castiel's shoulder, pulling him close to press his lips to Cas' hair before leading him down a well-worn path through the trees. Up ahead, smoke wound against the sky and the dark outline of a homestead could be seen. A small grouping of buildings clustered together glowed with a warm light. The sound of a barking dogs cut through the trees before a dark shape came bounding excitedly towards the two men. The dog leapt up excitedly at the sight of Dean and Castiel, yipping happily and wiggling, trying to get the attention of the dark haired man. Cas laughed, slipping out of Dean's embrace and crouching down to allow his face to be mauled by Charger's overeager tongue. Dean scratched behind Impalas ears before continuing towards the buildings. Cas watched him walk away for a few moments before scrambling up to join him.

They broke through the trees, fingers intertwined and entered the cabin. Inside a warm fire glowed in the hearth. A dark haired woman was playing with a sleepy little girl by the fire and a large man was washing dishes in a bucket by the stove. The man turned around, placing the sudsy bowl on the counter with a beaming smile.

"Bout time you came home Dean."

Sam stepped forward, hand outstretched towards Castiel.

"And you must be Castiel, you look at little different than I remember."

Castiel smiled shyly, shaking the offered hand.

"As do you Sam."

Sam laughed heartily, deciding to pull Castiel in for a hug. Dean looked at the two men getting along and allowed a huge smile to crawl across his face. He caught Sarah's eye from her place on the hearth and she answered her smile with one of her own. She mouthed a "good to see you" at Dean and he inclined his head in acknowledgement. Sam pulled away from Cas and motioned at the dishes with a smirk.

"You're a little late for dinner"

Dean nodded at the little girl by the hearth.

"Looks like I'm a little late for more than just dinner."

Sarah picked herself up from the floor, gathering the little girl against her hip and moving over towards the two men in the doorway. The little girl looked up at them with wide eyes, a shy smile gracing her face when Dean waved at her. She tucked her face into her mother's side, chewing on a fist.

"She's beautiful Sammy. Must be all Sarah's genes huh?"

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Something like that."

Sam smirked at the two men, giving them an appraising look.

"So where you been all this time, _little brother_?"

Dean spluttered and gaped, mouth opening and closing. He blushed at the memories of the past few months spent with Cas in the cave, before letting his indignation at being called little brother win over his fond reminiscing on the fun they had gotten up to once Cas had a human body of his own to experience.

"Little brother?"

Sam shrugged.

"Far as I can tell I'm 24 and you're only 22… so I think that makes you the little brother"

Three hours and seven wrestling matches later, it was determined that Sam was indeed still the little brother.

I'm not sure if I'll be posting any new fics on this site, mostly because the functionality of it drives me a bit nuts… but I will be continuing to write some more stuff (projects still not determined but eventually I will) over at AO3.. my account over there is lady_eliot_writes. Anyways thanks for sticking with this work much love. Xoxoxo


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